White Moon Rising
by unknownsound
Summary: It's been years. Bridges have been irreparably burned, lives forever lost. In a time when everything is being rebuilt, is there hope for a lost geisha as well? Sequel to "Bruised Peach". Updates on Sundays.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello and welcome to the severely overdue continuation of Hatsumomo's story! I'd planned to publish this back in 2012 or so, but time and adult responsibilities got in the way. Eventually I figured people had forgotten and no one would care. Imagine my surprise when I found I was wrong! There's no time like the present, so let's begin!_

_**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. Certain characters are property of Arthur Golden, or may be loosely based on historical figures._

**Chapter 1**

It's so curious how one's fortune can change, and how those changes can be brought about by any little thing. Given time, a gust of wind, or a drop of water can turn a brilliant diamond into a common, dull pebble. But those same conditions, under a more fortunate star, can turn a simple rock into an elegant jewel.

Of course, I'm alluding primarily to myself. I believe we last met in the middle of WWII, when my suffering was at its peak. I'd just moved to Tokyo, the most dangerous city in all of Japan at the time, and rented a moldy room above a pharmacist's shop; a room I paid for by playing the prostitute among the few bars left intact around town. Truly a lowly existence for a woman who had once been one of the elite _geisha_ in all of Kyoto, a position I'd fought for since girlhood.

Having been banished years earlier, I didn't think I'd ever be able to return to Gion. Banishment was permanent, after all, even after the troubles of the war shut down it down. It was announced that the geisha districts would be reopened in the winter of 1945. Just in time for New Year's, usually one of the busiest times of year for anyone. I'm sure they thought they were doing us a favor, but a nation in defeat hardly had anything to celebrate; I knew the teahouses would be a silent as ever while everyone mourned our shared disgrace. It was some months before things would start to recover.

Even through the haze of my own misery, it still pained me to see the _okiya_ of the nearby Akasaka district slowly return to life. Silk kimono were nearly unheard of by the end of the war – the following summer, however, hardly a day went by that some apprentice didn't pass me by on the street in full regalia. Were I able to feel anything beyond the sickening waves of resentment & self-pity, the sight would've made me nostalgic and a bit homesick. Despite myself, I secretly yearned for Gion, the only home I'd ever known. I would've been even happy to run into Mameha or Sayuri, if only for the chance to strangle them. Little did I know, however, that a small piece of Gion would come to me.

One day, in the spring of 1947, we got a customer in the pharmacy below my loft. I still volunteered my time there during the day in exchange for reduced rent, helping the old woman who ran the place with this or that. With her busy stocking boxes, it fell to me to take her order at the little counter in the back. Imagine my surprise when I sullenly looked up and saw Fujiko-san, my old fortuneteller! It had been many years since my disgraceful departure from Gion, so I wasn't sure if she'd recognize me; my body now slumped, my features looked gray & haggard, and my hair lay clumped around my shoulders, greasy from infrequent bathing. But something about my shocked expression must have tipped her off, for she leaned forward and peered at my face a bit before letting out a gasp of her own.

"Hatsumomo-_san_?! Is that you? Oh, it must be; I can see you remember me, as well." I can't tell you how it felt to be called Hatsumomo after so many years. It took me a few moments to compose myself enough to answer.

"Yes… Yes, I am Hatsumomo. Or, at least I used to be…"

"Ah. Of course," she murmured gravely. I learned in the weeks after my falling out with Shojiro, there wasn't a single soul in all of Gion who hadn't heard of the attack and my subsequent exile. I admit to spending many a night that first month wondering how wild and exaggerated the tale had become by then.

"Well, let's not dwell on such dark matters; time has passed and many things have simply become old wounds. You may as well come over for tea," she continued after I rang up her purchase. "I'm here visiting my sister in Aoyama – she survived the bombs, but a nasty cough might be the final straw. I'm taking care of things while she recovers. Let me leave you our address so you can drop by tomorrow. We obviously have much to catch up on."

She scratched a few lines down a piece of spare paper and left afterwards, leaving me standing there as if I'd been struck. To think, after all these years, I'd meet someone from my past! And someone who could possibly answer my questions, no less. In particular, I'd had one prevailing thought these past few years – how could I get back to Gion, where I knew I belonged?

I know it must seem silly, to hold out hope for so long. I suppose it was, and had I been anyone else I would've told myself just as much. I'd behaved terribly in my final years as a working _geisha_. There were far more enemies than friends in that city, people who would go through any length to never see me again. But I suppose I still believed that it was mine. Gion is often like an unfaithful lover, one who was just as likely to hurt you as anything else - many _geisha_ who were sold into the profession cursed the place and dreamed of leaving forever. But, like a foolish, pining wife, I still loved it.

The next day, I hurriedly dress and rushed out the door in the direction of Aoyama. I no longer wore kimono of any kind, only Western dresses I could scrounge up from second-hand shops and families selling their belongings for money to flee town. There were chances to buy a cheap housewife's kimono – for those were still much more common than skirts or a one-piece – but I wouldn't have had any idea how to put one on by myself. As for peasant's clothes…what was left of my pride would've never allowed it. I'd suffered countless indignities up until that point, but I refused to ever be considered a peasant.

The address led me to a small, two-story house squeezed between two storefronts. The tiled roof was covered in soot from where it looked like the building next to it recently caught fire, but otherwise looked like it escaped the ravages of war. Fujiko-san herself answered the door and led me to a wide room on the ground floor, where a table sat low on the tatami surrounded by books, papers, and the other paraphernalia of her trade.

"Please excuse the mess, Reiko-san," she waved, calling me by my assumed name I adopted after my exile. "I had no idea how long Michiko-chan would take to recover, so I was forced to open up shop right below her; the extra funds are welcome to pay her medical bills you know."

I couldn't help but chuckle; people in Gion almost never spoke of finances outside of family. It was curious indeed to hear Fujiko-san, of all people, speaking to me so frankly. When she noticed, I apologized and told her as much.

"I'm old, Reiko-san. It's been many years since we last saw each other – I was old then and I've only gotten older. People my age haven't the time for subtleties and such, especially in these uncertain times." She paused just long enough to gather up a few papers and pour two mugs of weak tea. "Now then, as I said before, we have much to catch up on. Why don't you tell me; what have you been up to since I last saw you, after that unfortunate night in Pontocho?"

I told her everything that I could remember – how I moved to Shizuoka; the old couple who lived there; their subsequent suicide at the news about their lost son; and how I came to live in Tokyo. But when I tried to dance around how I was supporting myself, she saw right through me.

"There's nothing to hide, Reiko-san," she waved simply, a gesture full of resignation more than anything else. "You aren't the first of my clients to have this fate befall them. If anything, out of all the girls who didn't have the great good fortune to find someone to shelter them, the _geisha_ who became prostitutes were almost fortunate – the only other alternative was as a factory worker. I'm not sure if you know this, but life there was hardly worth living. The only difference between you & them is you started the trade before the war, but that feels like splitting hairs now."

"What about you, Fujiko-san? How did Gion fare after my untimely departure." She raised an eyebrow at the word 'untimely', but said nothing.

"More or less the same, to be honest. I must say, you left Gion quite the parting gift – the story of your little fight with Bando Shojiro was talk of the town for weeks, even more so once they found out you'd been struck from the registry and kicked out. Gion lost more and more of it's glamour as the war wore on, of course. We were hit the worst by tea and alcohol rationing; any teahouses that couldn't bribe the military police to look the other way were soon forced to close their doors." She took a slow sip and stared pensively into her mug, her face unreadable to me.

"When the _geisha_ districts closed, I don't think I've ever had a busier day. Even geisha who had never come to me before stopped by and begged me for advice as to what they should do, where they should go, or if they would even survive. Some readings were better than others; all of them were bleak. I thought to live off my savings for a while, but the police came and told me that I had to leave my apartment for no one could live in Gion at all – which I thought was nonsense, but it was what it was. I lived out the war in a hotel run by a friend in eastern Kyoto.

"After the districts reopened, I moved back into my old apartment, for the landlord was kind enough to hold it for me, and I started business again. But it wasn't 6 months before I got news that Michiko had fallen ill, and I've been in Tokyo for a month. And that's that," she clapped with finality. "We're all caught up on the past – now let's speak of the future. What do you plan to do with yourself now, Reiko-san? So much time has passed that I doubt anyone would care if you returned to Gion."

Hearing that filled me with such hope that I found it difficult to stand still; it must have radiated out of my face, too, for I saw Fujiko-san give a small, wry smile as she looked at me.

"To be honest, Fujiko-san," I began carefully, "all I've wanted these past few years was to return to Gion. I was born there, you know – it's the only home I've ever known. If I could, I'd even return to being a geisha again."

At the sound of that, Fujiko-san's smile fell. She let out a heavy sigh as she rose from the table and retreated into a small, adjoining room. Several long minutes later, she returned with a scrap of paper – she'd left the room to divine my fortune. I caught myself holding my breath as she began to speak.

"I was afraid you'd say something like that. And I was afraid of this." She gestured to the paper. "I'm going to tell it to you, though, but you'd better heed my words carefully. What you ask for isn't impossible. **But**," she emphasized, seeing my features glow with happiness and hope, "you may forget about ever becoming what you once were. Hatsumomo is behind you, as are her years of success. You won't quite fail, but there is absolutely no point in even trying to become a star geisha again."

"Fujiko-san, _please_," I blurted out in impatience. "Have you ever heard of a star geisha who was in her thirties? I'm much too old to be as popular as I used to be, even if I'd never been kicked out."

"One never knows with you," she sniffed. "Moving on, if you were to return to being a _geisha_ – at great risk to yourself, by the way – it appears that your greatest success will come as a teacher. Your fate seems to be in ushering the next generation, rather than self-glory."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. The teachers at the little school were _geisha_ in name only – they almost never entertained and very few had ever even had a _danna_, preferring to spend their time mastering the arts than putting them to use. It was a job that usually fell to ugly or tragically unpopular geisha, the only way they would ever pay off their debts or command any measure of respect in Gion. I was none of those things and didn't feel good about counting myself as one of their number. If she noticed any displeasure in my countenance, Fujiko-san did not acknowledge it.

"Do you know why I'm telling you these things, Reiko-san?"

"To be completely honest, I have no idea. Anyone else in your shoes wouldn't even talk to a disgraced geisha, let alone offer to show her the path to redemption. It was my belief that most _geisha_ believed that I'd earned my fate."

"And so you did! I liked you, Reiko-san; even as Hatsumomo, I could see that you were a clever and talented girl. No one succeeds in Gion without undercutting an opponent on occasion, not even me. But your nature was utterly ruthless, Hatsumomo-san! Your evil deeds stacked against you until you finally fell and wiped out the thing you treasured most; your career. The reason I'm showing you this path now – to "redemption", as you called it – is because I can only hope your years of suffering will serve to keep you in check, if nothing else. I'm warning you now and under no uncertain terms: if you try to return to Gion only to repeat your past behavior, that door will close to you forever. You will have lost any chance at karmic forgiveness, and will probably return to the live you lead now."


	2. Chapter 2

_Ha! It's still technically Sunday! But seriously, sorry for the delay._

_**Disclaimer**: All rights go to Aurthur Golden and Penguin Publishing._

Chapter 2

Later that week, I lay awake in my bed, wondering over the events of the past several days.

After that astonishing visit with Fujiko-san, I came home so preoccupied that I couldn't even bring myself to go out that night; I sealed myself in my gloomy flat until morning, turning over everything that had happened again & again.

After imparting her warning to me, a dread silence hung in the air. It went unbroken until the sounds of someone's rasping cough echoed from a room above. Fujiko-san hurried upstairs and didn't return for some minutes. When she did, her lips were pressed together in an expression of grim concern.

"You may as well go on home, Reiko-san," she sighed. "It'll only get worse from here. She hasn't taken to the spring air at all. Besides, it's getting late."

"But wait! Just a moment, Fujiko-san. You claim it's possible for me to return to Gion, but how? My name was struck from the registry. Besides, I could never afford to move as a…well, as I am now."

"You mean you honestly don't know?" Her eyebrows raised in shock. "I thought you said you and your younger sisters wrote each other. I should think they'd be the first to tell you of Gion's state!"

"We used to – I lost contact after I moved to Tokyo, 3 years ago now."

"Well, you should remedy that immediately then. They're likely the only friends you have left in Kyoto! I remember I saw one of them around Gion just before I left, although she didn't look like the working sort anymore." She didn't bother to explain, but invited me to return the next day.

The following afternoon, she spent quite a long time telling me things that changed around Gion after the war. By the time she was done, I could already feel the beginnings of a grand plan forming. But it did nothing for the more immediate concerns of funding this plan. When I told Fujiko-san as much, she flapped her hands in impatience.

"Really, Hatsumomo," she said, using one of her frequent slips of the tongue. "You live barely a stone's throw from Akasaka, the only decent geisha district for miles. You yourself are a seasoned geisha with decades of experience. Why you haven't taken advantage of either of these things is beyond me!"

"I have thought about it, but I have no contacts or standing with these Tokyo geisha. Unless Akasaka is more different from Gion than I thought, I doubt they'd even take tea recommendations from a perfect stranger like me."

"Oh, it's not that bleak," she chided. "The districts have only just reopened; we all need whatever help we can get, and are hardly in the position to complain about the source. I moved here much more recently than yourself, and I've been making middling business. Several of my regular clients are once-prominent geisha; one or two are _okiya_ mistresses. How about I refer you to them as a dance instructor? As I recall, it was one of your greatest talents."

I bowed low to the mats and thanked her for all her help. No one had done so much on my behalf since I left Gion, and even before that – possibly since Tomihatsu. Fujiko-san just smiled and motioned for me to rise.

"Think nothing of it. No one likes to see a star fall so low, especially one that burned as bright as you. Besides, I believe your presence could do Gion some good. It's been slow to recover from the trauma of the war and being shut down all those years; perhaps you'd be just the one to help breathe some life back into things."

I set to work that night, dancing in my room to songs in my head. I wondered what to do for a dancing fan when I remembered the bundle hidden away under my Western style dresser. Sliding the large mass out from underneath the last board, I opened the slightly yellowed paper to reveal the two kimono I'd stolen the night Mother kicked me out; the flaming orange robe from my first _danna_, and the lavender robe I'd intercepted from Mameha's boyfriend. Lying flat on top of the pile was my white dancing fan – I couldn't part with it and took it with me, although I hadn't touched or even looked at it since the day I left. All three were just as pristine as the day I left them, although the silk fabric had taken on the pungent odor of herbs from downstairs.

I repeated this process day after day, increasing the difficulty of the songs and accompanying dance until I was satisfied that I remembered how to do most pieces. I was undoubtedly rusty, but so was everyone at the time.

True to her word, it was only a few days later that I received a summons from the landlord – a woman who ran a nearby _okiya_ called to reserve my time and see if I'd be suitable to tutor one of her apprentices in Inoue style dance. I decided that I'd be a fool to not agree. I was nervous as you could imagine, walking into an okiya for the first time in years. But I managed to satisfy the mistress as to my performance skills and she agreed to hire me.

I don't think I was really that good, certainly not as graceful or precise as I'd been before. But my student would be a mere apprentice learning the most basic dances, and I doubt there were very many teachers as versed in the Inoue school as I was in Tokyo at the time. Whatever her real thoughts were, we settled upon the schedule and payment, and she insisted on paying me three weeks in advance. I was so grateful to Fujiko-san that I went straight to her sister's house and bought an almanac from her. She found it so appalling that I'd been living without one all these years that she tried to just give it to me, but I insisted on paying.

It was that tome that I stared at in the night, a curious feeling taking hold of me. In a strange way, that book of endless charts and fortunes made me feel more like a geisha again in a way that nothing else could.

* * *

After purchasing the almanac, I had just enough money that month to pay my rent and buy food. As more and more calls came in, I soon had enough tutoring jobs through the week that I never again needed to go out and play my trade in the bars. Even if I never set foot in Gion again, I owed Fujiko a life debt for that alone. By the start of summer, I had to quit my job at the pharmacy. Of course that doubled my rent, but I was earning enough that it didn't bother me much.

What did matter was a letter that arrived two weeks later, postmarked from Gion. It took many weeks of sending letters back and forth to various people, but I'd finally managed to locate former apprentice, Sakura.

When I last wrote, they'd both been hiding with a tatami maker named Sugi in northern Kyoto, not far from the Baron's estate. As I later learned, she'd moved back to Gion merely a month before, only to find that the Inoue _okiya_ had burned down during the war. It wasn't a raid or anything so dramatic – merely the bad luck that some fool of a policeman had been burning trash nearby one winter and didn't put out his embers well enough.

She moved the _okiya_ and was now living in a house some blocks away, near the Kamo River. Kohaku's whereabouts were yet unknown. I could only hope she was with her sister or otherwise in Gion, as my plans for returning would not work as well without her.

I eagerly put aside my lacquer umbrella, for the rainy season had begun in proper, and went to tear open the letter by the light of my small electric lamp. "Dear Hatsumomo," it began – I hadn't yet told her of my name change.

_Dear Hatsumomo-san:_

_You have no idea how happy we are to hear from you again. We feared the worst when we lost contact with you so long ago. Honestly, you should've told us you moved to Tokyo sooner!_

_Kohaku is living with me in the okiya now. Matsuda-san died in a raid during the war. Because he was the one who arranged for our shelter from the factories, his wife was kind enough to let us pay our respects at his funeral. With her danna gone, she tried to return to her okiya but Tamame-san hasn't returned. To be honest, there's a rumor that she got married and isn't a geisha any longer. As fate would have it, I have a condition that prevents me from entertaining just now, so I gladly admitted her into the Inoue okiya._

_As for your announcement, we were shocked to hear of your intention to return to Gion! It seems impossible, but everyone knows how clever you are – if there is a way to accomplish such a thing, we're sure you'll find it. In the meantime, we're happy to assist you in any way we can_.

Despite her quiet skepticism, Sakura's letter brought welcome news. Not only was Kohaku still in touch, but I knew I could count on both of them in the years to come. Satisfied, I put the letter aside and was preparing to write my response when I noticed another slip of paper in the same envelope. It was a short note, written in Kohaku's tiny scrawl.

_Hatsumomo-san:_

_I knew Sakura probably wouldn't tell you this, but she's pregnant. When we lived in northern Kyoto, the family we stayed with ran out of money. I'm afraid that the women of the house eventually had to resort to prostitution to buy food. We tried to be cautious, but Sakura-chan became with child. She's about three months along. We await your return to Gion. I can't tell you how happy I am that you survived._

Pregnant! That was less happy news. I could hardly criticize their choices or fault them for the situation that drove them to it, but to keep the pregnancy was an absurd move on Sakura's part.

Like every geisha with a _danna_, she'd had abortions in the past – why this situation was any different, I had no idea. The situation was further worsened by the fact that a woman who becomes a mother can no longer be a geisha. It's a simple fact that in the teahouses, a man will want no part of a woman who's borne another man's child. While I could hardly be happy about it, I could also see no reason why she couldn't act out her part as normal. I wrote as much in my letter and continued on with the first round of my instructions.

I knew the Inoue _okiya_ had its own collection of kimono, but I also remembered what they looked like. There was also no guarantee that their storehouses had escaped the raids; more than a few _okiya_ mistresses return to Gion only to close their doors because the vaults in which they kept their entire collection had been bombed. I had plans to get my own collection, but that would come much later. In the meantime, I advised them both to closely watch the proceedings that were going on with Baron Matsunaga Tsuneyoshi.

In the new government that was emerging at the time, under the influence of the Americans, the old gentry was being done away with; the only exception would be the emperor himself. This meant that common farmers were no longer peasants, but neither were there dukes or barons. Naturally, many of them didn't like having their titles taken away and spent considerable sums of money fighting the decision. These battles were quickly silenced when many of them were also brought up on war crimes for heavily financing (or even owning) the factories that made bombs and planes. One of them was the Baron, Mameha's old _danna_.

If things continued to go poorly for him, I suspected that he would likely end up doing away with himself like Judge Hiyama did at the start of the Depression. The man always had been a complete child, and I highly doubted he'd changed much since. In any event, he'd certainly have to start selling some of the antiques from his impressive collection to keep up with his mounting fines.

My prediction came true a month later, when the news broke that he drowned himself at his estate. This came following the news that his money and holdings were being forcibly taken from him and auctioned off to pay his debts. I felt a smug sense of joy knowing that some of his kimono were already gone, sold off in secret by his family and servants. I also knew that a few pieces – including his crown jewel, an apprentice's robe showing the cliffs by the city of Kobe - lay quietly hidden away in the Inoue okiya, Sakura having snatched them up for a tidy sum.

When I promised to send them some fo my own savings to make up for it, because I knew that much money wasn't exactly easy to come by in those times, Kohaku's next letter immediately rejected the idea.

"That thing is easily one of the loveliest kimono I've ever come across," she wrote with her usual frankness. "We would've gladly paid as much and then some for that robe alone. For a time, there was a fierce bidding war for it. It only makes me wish I was an apprentice again! Or at least have a younger sister to parade around in it."

It was with this train of thought that brought up my second wonderful idea. Fate wouldn't leave me to rot in the classroom after all.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer**: Hatsumomo and other Memoirs of a Geisha characters are property of Arthur Golden and Penguin Publishing._

**Chapter 3**

Days after the Baron's death, I was taking a stroll around the neighborhood to enjoy the sunlight and think. I knew what path to take, I just didn't know how to go about it.

Fujiko-san's warning to me was that my role in Gion, if I was to have any at all, was simply to guide the new generation of geisha. Popularity in the teahouses was a goal that would do me far more harm than good to strive for. However, even in the worst of times these things are rarely absolute – there are usually little loopholes in this type of superstition that allow those clever enough to bypass them.

For instance, say your almanac warns strongly against traveling in the direction of the Tiger, which lies north-east. But you have a very important appointment that way! Most would try to reschedule, or simply curse their bad luck and cancel it altogether – the ingenious would know to travel west, then north, and then east to reach their desired location.

Of course, it's always better to avoid getting in such situations in the first place, but life is rarely so accommodating.

Likewise, Kohaku's letter gave me an idea as to what the loophole in my prophecy was: an apprentice. I can think of no better way to describe the role of an older sister than as the most important teacher in a geisha's life. The little school is nice, but I could've stayed there my entire life and not learned nearly so much as I did during my years with Tomihatsu. The same could be said for Mameha; even with all her natural-born gifts, she would've been nothing if not for Mamemitsu. If I couldn't be a star in my own right, then I resolved to be the one who molds them.

Unfortunately, suitable little girls don't just fall from the sky. It might seem easy to find one with times being what they were. There was already a proliferation of orphans and child prostitutes left behind from the dual wreckages of war and the now-past Depression. If it had to be done, selling your daughter to an _okiya_ was certainly the more hopeful choice.

However, simply having desperate parents (or none at all) was no good prerequisite to becoming a decent geisha. Suitable girls had to be attractive, with clever, even-tempered personalities, or else they'd be better off as some merchant's wife. They also needed to be just the right age: old enough to understand the complicated lessons she'll have to undergo, but certainly well before the age she blossoms into a young woman!

Such gems were uncommon and usually picked off quickly by brokers, who made a tidy sum on the side by recommending girls to _okiya_ they were friendly with and acting as go-between with their parents. My mission was doubly complicated by living in close proximity to another geisha district, where such brokers were common and always searching for new faces. Likely, the entire city had been combed three times over since the districts reopened.

These were the thoughts I mulled over as I rounded a corner just north of Roppongi and heard children shouting. At first I thought I was looking at the remnants of a schoolyard, but the noted lack of uniforms told me otherwise. It took me a moment to realize that I was looking at an orphanage, and a rather ramshackle one at that. Like almost every city throughout Japan at the time, Tokyo was littered with them. Most were terribly overcrowded, but it did nothing to stem the ever-rising tide of street urchins who lost their families to the bombs, or even hunger.

But widespread tragedy is often a godsend to the geisha industry; you'll recall how swollen with apprentices the school in Gion became in the years after the Depression began. And that gave me an idea – I decided right then that, if there was a suitable orphan girl left in all of Tokyo, she was probably in one of these.

Back in my apartment, I flipped through my almanac for the best day to pay a visit to the tattered little orphanage. I began to consider what should say to the owner to get them to listen to me. That day turned out to be the first Monday in July, a swelteringly humid day. I dressed in a light blue _yukata_ and a pair of cheap _zori_. (I'd invested in a few robes to wear to my tutoring appointments, for they were much better for dancing in than any Western skirt.) Retracing my steps, it wasn't until I was standing right before it that I realized the true extent of the place's misfortune.

Apparently, the building had been bombed at one point – I could only hope it was before it became a home for children – and pieced back together using the burnt odds & ends of the buildings around it. Knocking on the warped wooden door, I could only imagine what the inside looked like. Still, I forced a smile as the entrance creaked open and a burly, middle-aged woman with a stern expression stood in my way.

"What do you want?" she huffed. It was hardly a polite greeting but, granted, I imagine more women were visiting to drop off unwanted children than to adopt another mouth to feed. I asked to see the woman who owned the orphanage and was wordlessly let inside.

The bare wood floors were in just as bad condition as the outside – without my shoes, I had to tread very carefully in fear of splinters and raised nails. The walls were the sad, brown color of the tobacco-stained paper windows in Mother's room, and a strong odor of communal living and smoke seemed to seep from every possible surface. Everything in my being screamed at me to run right back out the door! And I probably would have if I hadn't been desperate.

She led me down the narrow hallway into the owner's room, a small closet of space that was slightly cleaner than the rest of the building. Two futons lay rolled in the corner, where I assume my guide and the owner slept.

The owner in question was a shriveled old woman in a purple cotton kimono. White hair tied into a tight bun, she was busy harshly scolding a little urchin in the corner. As soon as she realized she had guests, she shooed the girl out of the room and put on a wide smile.

"Welcome, honored guest!" she exclaimed, giving a deep bow. "My name is Kyoko, the director and owner of this humble orphanage. I hope my daughter didn't give you too rough a welcome?"

"Oh no, not at all," I fibbed.

We exchanged pleasantries as we took a seat on either side of the short, chipped desk. Finally she asked me what my business was with them.

"I'm here on a mission, Kyoko-san. I've been making a living as a dance teacher in Akasaka, but now that this awful war is over, I believe the time is ripe for me to return to my native Kyoto. Unfortunately, I've been told by my highly trusted fortune-teller that my return is doomed to fail unless I commit an act of charity before I go! I was just passing through the other day when I found you and thought that it was the perfect place."

Halfway through my story, her face turned hard and she lit a wood pipe in a way that reminded me almost of Mother. It was obvious that she was disappointed that I wasn't there to adopt.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," she began curtly, "but as you can see, we hardly have the money to spend on something as frivolous as dance lessons. Perhaps some other place would accommodate you."

"Surely you don't think I'd be so heartless as to charge you! It wouldn't be charity if I did, would it? And please don't think I'd be so cruel as to disrupt your business for nothing. As I've said, I'm doing brisk business as a dance teacher in Akasaka. My clients are all _okiya_ mistresses, many of whom are looking for new girls to take on as apprentice geisha. They've lost so many in those terrible years, after all… I'd be more than happy to recommend your orphanage to them."

"Well, then who are we to deny your generosity?" she smiled, finally hearing what she wanted. "I was reluctant because I was afraid we couldn't pay you, understand. But now that you've assured us that this service is free, I wouldn't be doing my job if I denied the opportunity to give some of these girls a new place in the world. When do you plan to begin these lessons?"

"I'm so glad you feel this way. Three days from now would be excellent for me."

"Then three days from now it is." She grabbed a brush from her desk and went over to a little calendar posted along the wall. Together we marked the start and end dates for our little venture.

* * *

By mid-July, I stood in an empty room of the orphanage, frustrated and empty-handed. I returned to that filthy place every day for two weeks, with nothing to show for it. I'd found a few girls that looked promising, but every one of them held some kind of physical or emotional defect that rendered them unsuitable to become a Kyoto geisha. One was pretty, but the skin on her arms was marred in places from surviving a bombing raid; another was talkative and sociable, but far too clumsy and forgetful.

Even so, I upheld my end of the agreement, passing them and several other girls on to the _okiya_ mistresses I worked for, with the result being that I'd halved my class by the end of my time there. But my own search appeared to be a failure here.

By no means did that mean I was giving up – I'd prepared myself for that eventuality and was already on the hunt for another orphanage. Although, to be very honest I was in no way looking forward to repeating the past two weeks elsewhere. The experience of tutoring a room full of children in that place did nothing but steel my determination to never become a schoolteacher. I deeply respect those who hold the position, but it became quite obvious to me that I was never meant to be one of them.

Tired, I sighed and gathered up my resolve to finish out the last few days and be done with it. As I waited for what was left of my sad little group, I heard a series of sounds coming from the closet behind me. My first thought was that I was hearing a rat rustling around; it certainly wouldn't be the first. I was inclined to ignore it and merely hope it went away, but I certainly didn't want a repeat of my deeply unpleasant first day, when a mouse ran right out and across my foot.

Grabbing a nearby idle broom, I jerked the door open and found myself staring down at dirty little girl. Her long hair was matted but she wore the plain blue, threadbare robe all the other little girls in this orphanage wore. I suddenly recognized her as the girl who was being scolded the first day I stopped by.

"Please don't tell auntie, ma'am!" she exclaimed, suddenly bowing to the mats after her surprise wore off. "I'm sorry for spying!"

"Wait just a moment," I said, stopping her before she tried to scuttle away again. "What's your name little girl? You obviously live here but I haven't seen you in any of my classes."

"That's because auntie said I couldn't," she mumbled quietly. "She said you worked for people who ran _okiya_, and no one would want me as a geisha anyway."

I insisted that she repeat what she said and look at me while she did it. Happily, I didn't see any scars or burns. Not only that, but she had pretty single-lid eyes, two rows of even teeth, and a lovely face. Her skin was dirty from their once-a-week policy on bathing, not to mention her bad posture among what I was sure was a list of other bad habits, but she was no worse off than any other farm girl when she first comes to Gion.

This was the first time I truly laid eyes on Yui, as she went in those days. Over the years, I'd go on to learn a great deal about her time in Tokyo, which unfortunately wasn't very pleasant. Her father had enlisted very early in the war and even attained some rank, but was killed in a terrible battle in the south of the country when the Allies began invading. From what she could remember, her mother had been a startling beauty herself, but quickly became despondent after losing her beloved husband. She abandoned her child and disappeared, likely to commit suicide somewhere quiet, as she was never heard from again.

"Well Yui, I'm sure it's just as your auntie says, but how about you stand in the back while I conduct class anyway? I'm sure you can't get a very good view from inside a closet."

She smiled at this and quickly assumed her spot in the rear, for the children were beginning to stream in for their lesson. Throughout the afternoon, I watched Yui as she went through the paces for a simple dance that was taught to all the basic rank students in Gion. She was keeping up rather well with her peers, considering that she only watched from a closet for two weeks. I won't say she was graceful, for no beginner is, but she certainly took to the lesson with enthusiasm. Besides, over time, grace and elegance could easily be taught.

Staring at her as the lesson ended and the class bowed and thanked me like they were instructed, I could imagine her growing into a very attractive young woman; anything else she needed to be a first-rank geisha would be drilled into her after years of constant practice. I'd made my decision.

At that moment, Kyoko-san returned from an errand and walked into the room to see me off. After relieving them of several hungry mouths, I seemed to be her new favorite person. But the moment her eyes fell on Yui, her friendly smile dropped and she scowled at the girl.

"You bad little girl!" she snapped at her. "Get out of here and stop bothering our guests! I apologize for any harm she may have done to you today, Reiko-san. Yui here can be quite mischievous."

"She's been nothing of the sort, Kyoko-san! Yui-chan here has been nothing but a model student all day. I can't believe I haven't noticed her in my lessons before today." The old woman grimaced.

"To tell the truth, I've been trying to keep her contained, so to speak. She's been a sack of trouble since she came here!" she explained, leading me up the hall to her office. "Her grandmother was a close friend of mine and sent her here before she passed away. We dutifully took her in, but she certainly hasn't been grateful for other people's charity!"

"I'm sure you're right, but I simply can't imagine her causing much trouble," I said, pointedly trying to steer the conversation to her supposed crimes.

"Oh, she can be an annoyance when she wants to be! That girl loves to play pranks on people she doesn't like, and has disobeyed us constantly. The thanks we get for taking her in off the street!" she huffed.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Kyoko-san. But, if I might, if she's such a burden to you, perhaps I could take her off your hands." She was on her way to taking a sip of tea, but quickly put it down and stared at me in disbelief.

"Really? You've become taken with that imp?" I could see that she briefly considered agreeing, if only to rid herself of the girl, but something stopped her. "I must confess that I haven't been fully honest with you. Yui isn't truly an orphan – her grandmother was also my cousin, making me her great-aunt. So you see, I'm her legal guardian."

"And I'm afraid that I haven't been completely honest with you, Kyoko-san," I began carefully. It was very obvious that, relative or not, Kyoko held no great love for the girl. As such, it would only take a bit of convincing for her to relinquish her guardianship. But, to do so, I'd have to divulge some secrets of my own.

"I'm not merely a simple dance teacher, but a geisha. I moved to Tokyo during the war, while the districts were closed. But, now that they've been reopened, it's time for me to return to my _okiya_ in Gion. I was hoping to take Yui with me, not as my daughter, but as a future apprentice geisha."

Kyoko-san looked surprised for a moment, then let out a laugh. "I should've thought as much, all the girls you've helped us unload into Akasaka. So you're from the famous Gion, are you? But I still don't see why you'd want a stubborn, troublesome girl like Yui."

"Many successful geisha started out as troublesome, stubborn girls themselves," I smiled. "It's a rare gem that's born as graceful and elegant as we become. But if I may, would you not consider abandoning your guardianship of her? It doesn't need to be an official adoption, but I'd be more than happy to pay the adoption fees as if it were."

Kyoko-san lit her pipe and sat puffing on it for a few minutes, but she eventually nodded curtly. "If you think you can make something out of her in Kyoto, than I can see no reason to hold her back. We all want to do what's best for a young girl in need, don't we? I'll be happy take a trip down to the courthouse tomorrow if that's fine with you."

"That would be fine…if only my grandmother had seen her yet. I haven't mentioned her?" I feigned ignorance at her confused expression. "My grandmother also has quite a stake in my career back home; I could hardly make the decision to bring someone into the _okiya_ without her approval."

"And when does your grandmother plan on coming by?"

"I can't say for sure, but definitely sometime this week. Is that alright?"

"It's all the same to me, so long as it ends up in a new opportunity for Yui-chan." She smiled again as she tapped out her pipe. We exchanged a few more pleasantries before I bid her goodbye.

Once outside, I turned my feet to Fujiko-san's house. Every girl that enters Gion with the intent to become an apprentice must be examined by a fortuneteller, mostly to read that her presence won't bring bad luck or that she'll turn out badly. A girl's fortune and her astrological chart will factor in greatly later on when choosing things like her older sister.

I found Fujiko-san in a dark purple silk kimono, apparently having just come from a visit to the local temple. We exchanged pleasantries for a minute or two before I finally told her what I had planned. After I mentioned my plan to take on an apprentice, she gave a heavy sigh.

"Are you sure that's wise, Hatsumomo-san?" she said slowly, making sure every word was well-heard.

"I very well couldn't return to Gion empty-handed, could I? Besides, you yourself said that my fortunes lie with guiding the next generation. I know now more than ever that I am no school teacher; my talents and experience would be best used in the teahouses, next to a promising young apprentice."

"Don't think I don't know the true reason why you're doing this." She gave me a hard look and continued. "We both know that the moment you step foot in a single teahouse, you'll revert back to your old ways. It may be for the benefit of another, but senseless cruelty is still how you operate."

"Please, give me more credit than that, Fujiko-san!" I sighed. "I've lost too much to jeopardize it again. But I will have my moments, as all geisha do. We both know that even the kindest woman in Gion must bare her fangs to a rival occasionally, especially when promoting an apprentice."

Fujiko-san gave another heavy sigh. Her face softened, but not with relief or kindness. "I know what you're trying to do, Hatsumomo-san. You do realize that, for your little scheme to work, you'd have to have an apprentice nearly every year of your remaining career?"

"That's hardly a price to pay to be a geisha again. So long as I don't get forced into a situation where I have to train a nightmare, I'm sure I can work wonders." She spent a long moment staring into her teacup, before looking solemnly out of the window.

"I suppose that it's fate that we should come to this. You know I've been going to another pharmacy since I arrived here, but they closed down that particular day. And the nearest that sold the medicine I needed just happened to have you in it!" She set her mug down suddenly and stood up from the table with some difficulty. "I don't much like it, but perhaps you _are_ more needed in the teahouses than the classroom. Heaven knows there's a lack of stellar adult geisha right now… I'll see the girl."

I thanked her and asked when the examination should take place. She disappeared into her little room for a few minutes and returned saying that she could be there the day after tomorrow. That day wasn't exactly the best day for making deals for me, but it wasn't the worst either; it would have to do.

Two days later, we arrived at the little orphanage where Kyoko-san was waiting for us in her office. When she saw us, she called Yui into the room and told her to bow and welcome us.

"Perhaps we should leave grandmother and Yui-chan alone," I said quietly to her. "She's going to want to talk to her in private, and grandmother so hates crowds." She threw me a sidelong glance that said she thought it strange, but quietly obliged.

We attempted menial conversation as the minutes slowly ticked by. Finally, almost a half hour later, Fujiko-san emerged from the room and called me over.

"I must commend you on your eye, Hatsumomo-san," she nodded, wiping her hands on a handkerchief. "She's most certainly a lovely and quick young girl. Train her well and she'll be a fine apprentice. She's year of the Rat, her ruling element is Earth, and she is certainly intact. Now I'll leave you to explain to the poor thing what all this was about."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Apologies for the delayed update. Back-up work bogged me down for a while. :p_**

**Chapter 4**

Some weeks later, on a day specially chosen by Fujiko-san, the three of us went to the low, sooty building that served as the Tokyo courthouse. Yui was confused at first when I went into talk to her; likely she was still shocked by the procedure she'd just endured, which can be quite jarring for some. But once she began to realize that I was offering a way out of that filthy orphanage, she quickly agreed. Luckily for me, she even professed an admiration for the few apprentices she'd seen strolling around.

It might seem odd that I would even bother getting the girl's agreement in all this when I could just as easily adopt her against her will, but a girl who's unwilling will hardly make a good student. We've already talked about how Little Miss Stupid nearly ruined her own life trying to run away; she'd hardly be the first (or last) young girl to resent Gion at first, but I could afford no such missteps.

It was mid-morning when we passed the group of American soldiers who were guarding the front door – by early afternoon, Kyoko-san had filed all the necessary paperwork to relinquish all claim to her grand-niece. Once it was finalized, Yui thanked her aunt for her kindness, as I had instructed her, and together we gave her a low bow in gratitude. We stayed that way until she was out of sight, then I led her to my apartment. Introducing her to the landlady, she did nothing more than glower at us and grumble something about staying quiet before she raised the rent again. Upstairs, her training officially began.

I told her under no uncertain terms that she was to never question or disobey me, as she had her aunt. From that moment on, she was to speak in nothing but a Kyoto dialect, and I corrected her on everything from her posture to how she sat, and a great many other things. On a more unorthodox note, I eventually taught her how to cook rice and to clean the apartment while I was away tutoring.

"When we arrive in Gion, you'll start out as a maid," I told her. "After a time, you'll be registered in the little school where we teach girls the different arts for being a geisha. You've had no discipline until now. It's my intention to smooth over your rougher edges until you'll be no different from the girls who were born there."

"How long will I be in school before I become a geisha?" she asked.

"You won't truly be a geisha until you turn your collar at 18," I responded after making her say it again properly. "But you'll debut as an apprentice a few years from now, when you're a bit older. If all goes well, you'll be a popular and well-known geisha by the end of your apprenticeship with me. But a great many things have to come first."

It was the beginning of September 1946 when we began the preparations for my triumphant return to Gion.

I had finally amassed enough funds to cover our travel costs and then some. I consulted my almanac on everything from when to purchase the train tickets to what day to talk to my landlady. A delicious sense of excitement ran through the air as the proceedings went smoothly, only to be dampened by a sudden funeral invitation; Fujiko-san's sister had finally passed.

We donned our most somber robes and made our way to her house in Aoyama. I still had no silk kimono, so we were forced to make do with wearing new cotton robes in all black. I was sure to make up for it by bringing a funeral gift of expensive tea. The service was simple and small, but perfectly respectable for the times. We were the last of the funeral guests to see her that day, which meant that we could talk at length.

"What will you do now?" I asked over a mug of chilled barley tea, Yui quietly enjoying a plate of _wagashi_ next to me. "Will you accompany us back to Gion?"

"Heaven's no! I'm much too old to move again," she said. I believed her - she certainly wasn't young when I first met her, but now she reminded me of a much kinder version of Granny. "Don't misunderstand. Gion treated me very well for the many years I lived there, but Tokyo is hardly a bad place either. No, I think I'll live out my life here. Sanae was kind enough to leave me the house before she passed."

"I must admit, I can hardly imagine living in Gion without your skills or advice, Fujiko-san."

"You forget that I wasn't born in Kyoto," she corrected me, smiling nonetheless. "Gion isn't my entire life the way it is with you geisha. Besides, you may not have to. You'll recall that I had an apprentice of my own when you left; she has her own practice now and is very skilled."

She left the room for a bit and placed a business card on the table. It belonged to her ex-apprentice, whose name was Chikako. I took it and slipped it into my bag before backing away from the table and bowing to the floor.

"Thank you, Fujiko-san, for doing so much on my behalf. I consider you a teacher and a close friend of the type I haven't known since Tomihatsu."

"Oh, come now, we've been over this!" she insisted. "There's no reason to be so formal. If you truly want to thank me, hurry back to those younger sisters of yours and fulfill your obligation to this one here." She patted Yui on the head affectionately. We chatted a bit longer before giving Fujiko-san one last, low bow and bidding her a final goodbye.

The next day, we began packing our things for the trip to Kyoto. I hadn't collected much more than what I arrived with. I packed away the pine box that held what was left of my apprentice hair ornaments, the two silk kimono I'd taken, Tomihatsu's tortoiseshell ornament, my almanac, and a set of writing utensils all into a well-worn travel trunk I bought from the nearby secondhand shop. Yui only had a set of child-sized robes I'd bought for her, and a new almanac she'd received from Fujiko-san as a gift. Because she didn't know many kanji yet, I had to read it aloud to her every morning.

It was on the second Sunday of the month that we gathered our things, thanked the landlady for her years of kindness, and rode a tram to Tokyo station to catch our train. The station was in the beginning stages of being repaired, the massive holes that had been blown into it were patched over with wooden boards. We ended up sitting on a bench near the entrance for an hour until the train arrived. Taking the same route I'd ridden all those years ago, we pulled out of Tokyo and rode until mid-afternoon to our connection in Shizuoka. It was early evening when we finally arrived in Kyoto station.

Sakura and Kohaku were there to meet us at the station. Immediately, we fell into each others arms; though on the brink of tears, I was careful to avoid Sakura's stomach, which was already the size of a watermelon. As they were introduced and began to fawn over Yui, I took a good look at the two of them for the first time since I'd left.

Sakura, aside from the obvious pregnancy glow, looked tired but happy. The war years had obviously not been very kind to her, although it can't be denied that she was far from unlucky. Kohaku wasn't as fresh-faced as I last saw her either, although she bore the memories of her misfortunes with the same imperious grace she always possessed. I was happy to see that she hadn't completely lost the mischievous glint in her eyes, either. Both of them were in their late twenties by this time. While they could hardly be considered old, their ripest years as geisha were now behind them, as they were with me.

From the station, we took a rickshaw and they both insisted on taking the scenic route to the _okiya_. Gion was just as I remembered it, having seen mercifully little since the war. We passed the as-yet-unopened Kaburenjo Theatre, the Mizuki and Ichiriki teahouses, and various _okiya_ we used to visit. They chattered on and on, telling me about who lived, who died, which stores closed for good, and which had already reopened. I noticed a shadow cross Sakura's face as we passed the empty lot that used to house the charred remains of old Inoue _okiya_, but she recovered and went on to tell me about the new one. I had trouble listening, as the one location I was really interested in passed into my view; the Nitta _okiya_.

I frowned inwardly as I saw the giant padlock on the front gates, but shrugged it off. My plans for them could wait a bit longer.

Finally, we came to a stop in front of the new Inoue _okiya_. They hadn't lied when they said it was near the Kamo River – the faint sound of rushing water was ever-present in that part of the neighborhood. Shijo Avenue was only a few blocks down the street, almost within sight. Before the geisha districts closed, this was considered an almost upscale part of town to own an _okiya_, so close as it was to many first-class teahouses and restaurants. After Gion reopened it was the slowest to recover, but Sakura was still very lucky to have afforded such a location. I later found out that it was because the previous mistress had taken her own life in the lovely little garden when it was announced the geisha districts were closing. Hoping to ward off any misfortune, Sakura told me that they paid to have the place blessed by a local priest, then erected a small shrine under the eaves of our maple tree.

The building itself was set up like any other traditional _okiya_: on the first floor, beyond the entryway, the maids room lay across from an empty guest room on either side of the wooden hall; the second floor contained three rooms, one for the mistress (Sakura), and a much larger space for the working geisha. The third room served as a Sakura's office, for unlike Mother, she hated the idea of sleeping in such a packed and gloomy room. While it was called a guest room, the empty room downstairs was often reserved for the most senior member of the household – in the Nitta okiya that was Auntie, after Granny died; here, that was me.

Taking our things indoors, I was introduced to the few maids we had. There were only three of them, one being the cook. Not only were we deeply understaffed, but it turned out that two of them were only working for food and a place to sleep because we could not afford to pay them, too. They greeted me respectfully, but seemed truly glad to see Yui since they knew they'd soon have another pair of hands to help for a time.

After a quick dinner, Kohaku told me that the new okiya had one more surprise left. She led me out into the courtyard, which glowed dimly in the setting sun. A low wooden structure sat in the corner, next to the wall of the kitchen. Inside sat a deep, wooden tub next to a raised, square platform. The tub sat on top of a low metal grate, below which lied a bed of white charcoal dust; it was a bath. Apparently, whichever _okiya_ last owned this compound had been wealthy enough to possess their own private bath.

It was a massive expense when I left Gion – probably they were one of only a small handful of houses in all Kyoto to own one, although they became a more common in the years to follow. She went on to tell me that they could only afford to use it for special occasions due to water and fuel costs, but the wood in it was mostly cedar; when you went to pour hot water into it, the wood oils scented the water and perfumed the skin.

After all the excitement of the day, we all went to bed shortly after 10. A maid took a spare futon into my new room as Yui was quietly led into the maid's quarters. As I explained to her on the train, entering into the _okiya_ was the moment we parted. From then until the time when she was to be registered into school, her only job was as one of the maids. But that didn't mean I was done yet. I had to focus on rebuilding my own career, starting with getting my name back onto the records.

**_I won't say that this is the last time we'll see Fujiko, but it's definitely her last major appearance. Which is fine - soon we'll get to see some old faces!_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Sorry for missing an update last week, everyone! Hopefully that won't have to happen again :/**_

Chapter 5

The very next day, I set out to be readmitted into the Gion registry. Donning a pale blue _yukata_ with a hatchmark pattern in white, I wrapped my hair into a neat bun and made my way to the registry office. The building was right where it always was - right next door the school building and within sight of the sweeping red-tiled eaves of the theater. But the faces inside were very different. Whether Awajiumi had died or simply found something else to do, he never returned to Gion. His replacement was a rather serious bespectacled young man of about thirty years; unlike his predecessor, he proved to be about as interested in geisha as a dog is to catnip. Walking up to his desk, I took a deep breath and steeled my quickening nerves.

That day when I first visited Fujiko-san, she told me a few very interesting things about how Gion had changed since it reopened, starting with what happened to Gion's archives. You see, the geisha association keeps records of the career of every single geisha that has ever worked in Gion. These records are quite extensive, some dating back almost a hundred years. While Kyoto had seen mercifully little bombing over the war, the same couldn't be said for nearby Osaka, where the vaults that contain these records were kept. The vast majority of these vaults survived, but no small number were damaged or even destroyed altogether; the records containing the lives and careers of thousands of geisha were lost.

Shortly after I reestablished contact with my younger sisters, I asked them to check the validity of this news. Several times, Kohaku asked a clerk to check and see if a certain geisha had come back to town – in quite a few cases, they came back empty-handed and told her to assume that the records were either lost or still in a giant pile of rubble in Osaka.

Another point Fujiko-san mentioned to me was that Gion – and thus the geisha association – was starved for money. I'm sure having all trade and business within the city halt for so many years did not leave the purse in very good shape! So far as anyone was concerned at the time, so long as I promised to make money and attract patrons, I could've walked right into town claiming to be Mameha. Of course, that was only so long as the _real_ Mameha never came back. In such a case, both geisha would be dragged before the association to sort things out, and the losing party would be thrown out for good.

I kept these things in mind as I walked through the low, smoky room and to the desk in back. Despite obviously having a client waiting, he took his time addressing me.

"What's your business?" he said, finally picking up his pen and looking up at me.

"I'm here to re-register myself as a geisha," I said. "I've just returned to Gion and see no reason to wait any longer."

"It might take some time; things are kind of a mess right now. What's your name?"

"Tsukishiro," I smiled.

The real Tsukishiro was another apprentice of Tomihatsu's. I had never met her, but I knew that she died during the war; she was murdered by her boyfriend in Kanagawa, you see, and the story briefly made the news. However, despite having Tomihatsu as an older sister, she was tragically unpopular as a geisha. Probably she'd attended no more than a few dozen parties a year. But that's what made her so perfect for me; not only would next to no one even remember her, there was also no danger of her returning and trying to get her identity back.

He went upstairs to look and I sat down on a nearby cushion to wait. The whole time I had been talking to the man – Sado-san, judging by the placard on his desk – an old woman had been not-so-secretly peering at me. As she paced around the room and stared, I picked up a nearby magazine and hoped she'd take the hint. Instead, she just walked right over and spoke to me.

"Excuse me, ma'am…" she started politely. "I couldn't help wondering… Forgive me if I'm wrong, but… Is there any way possible that your name is Hatsumomo?"

By way of reply, I put down the magazine and flashed her an impish grin. At once she began to get even more agitated.

"Oh, I knew it was you! But how? I thought you'd left years ago…" As glad as I was to be recognized, I had to correct her before Sado-san overheard.

"I'd hate to disappoint you, madam, but I'm not Hatsumomo." Then I dropped my voice to a whisper before adding, "Not anymore." Thankfully, she seemed to finally take the hint. Nodding sagely, she reached into her purse.

"I see. I truly apologize, miss…?"

"Tsukishiro, at your service."

"Well, if you've been to Gion before, Tsukishiro-san, then you must remember me. I believe I've taught just about every geisha your age. I believe you were one of my star students."

"Why, you must be Hanada-san! It has been so long, please forgive me for not recognizing you. Are you teaching dance again?"

"Goodness, no; I'm far too old. But I will be taking over their tea ceremony classes until they find someone else. The new dance teacher is an old colleague of mine. Will you be attending the school again, Tsukishiro-san?"

"Of course. It has been so long, I'm afraid I might have gotten rusty."

"A wise decision. You simply must attend our party next weekend, then. Well, I call it a party but it's simply a get together for us old salts to celebrate returning in one piece." She laughed at her own joke and handed me a business card for a teahouse, bidding farewell. A few minutes later, Sado-san came back down shaking his head.

"I looked everywhere but I wasn't able to find more than a few mentions of your name."

"Oh, dear... That is disappointing," I sighed, but I already knew he would say that; Tsukishiro was one of the names Kohaku inquired about. I was simply glad that no new papers had been found since our little investigation. "Well, I'm sure we can just make a new one. It's probably for the best anyway; a lot has changed over the years."

He simply gave me an irritated grunt in reply and sat back down. After running over all the information with me and asking for proof of my identity – a picture I'd saved of myself with Tomihatsu at Sakura's coming-of-age party – he filed the papers. "Congratulations," he said curtly. "You're a geisha again."

There were so many things I wanted to say to that, but I simply thanked him and left.

Returning to the _okiya_, I stopped to mention the upcoming party to Kohaku before quickly taking note of when to make all the necessary appointments for my proper return. I'd found a new hairdresser who worked in a tiny studio besides a confectioner's shop. We were told an artist lived in the apartment above; the conflicting smells of dirty hair, sweet rice cake, and oil paint wafting down the hallway mixed together to create a sickly-sweet aroma that was almost nauseating. Really, the only reason anyone went there was because he had a reputation for being one of the very best hairdressers left in town.

After sitting for an hour, having my hair scraped, scored, and waxed into the shape of an adult geisha, I felt indescribably relieved to finally walk out of that place. And not just to escape the smell – the looks I received all the way back to the _okiya_ told me that I was almost back to my old radiance. Most of them were admiring, from both men and geisha, but a few looked as if they'd seen a ghost. They could think whatever they wanted, so long as none of them got in my way.

Over the next few days, I'd succeeded in procuring almost a full set of makeup and a few vials of perfume, as well as quite a few hair ornaments for an adult geisha. By the time the week was done and it came time for me to begin my transformation into Tsukishiro, I felt perfectly ready to face the world as a geisha again.

Sitting in front of the mirror, I took a moment to examine my face. I'd been taking much better care of my features over the past several months, but it wasn't enough to completely undo the years of neglect and abuse. My face still looked a bit pallid and dark circles bloomed under my eyes like bruises. What was worse, the first faint cracks of age had begun to appear around my eyes and mouth.

However wilted my face had become, I still felt grateful that I'd narrowly avoided ruining my it for good with drink. Not three months after I moved to Tokyo, alcohol was banned as a luxury by the military government, although the bars I'd been visiting all had secret hoards of sake and beer they began selling watered down for exorbitant prices. I never stopped drinking completely – I would've never had the stomach to continue being a prostitute if I had – but I could no longer afford more than a small flask of the very weakest sake. Because of that, I looked no worse than anyone else who had lived through the horrors of war.

While I briefly considered covering up my complexion by wearing the traditional face mask, I immediately discarded the idea. A geisha beyond her twenties never wears the full white makeup of an apprentice to a party for any reason; it's reserved for special occasions and dance recitals only. I had to rely on my skill with more Western make up to cover up the dark circles as best that I could, and chose a shade of lip stain in bright red and eye makeup in a deep violet to detract from my skin tone. The rest would have to be resolved with time.

Since it was early autumn, I chose a kimono in bright yellow with red maples leave embroidered around the hem, and an underrobe in bright green. As the dresser worked to tie the eggplant-colored obi, I felt a luminous smile slowly grow on my face. It was the first silk kimono I'd worn since that fateful night in Pontocho. It briefly crossed my mind that that had also been in the autumn, the season of changes.

Stepping into the entryway as a maid sparked a flint against my back, I came face to face with Kohaku. While we could have said a multitude of things in that moment, we simply smiled to each other and she bowed to me as her older sister.

During the rickshaw ride to the venue, Kohaku told me a bit about the Shinmori teahouse. Apparently, a long-retired geisha had bought a failing teahouse and began construction the year I was kicked out. It had only finished a month after the geisha districts were reopened. It was said to be an elegant place, on par with the Mizuki and Ichiriki in wealth if not history, although Kohaku herself hadn't yet had the occasion to entertain there.

As soon as we pulled up, I could immediately see that the rumors were true; the Shinmori teahouse stood out from among the old shops and other buildings like a pearl in an oyster. Warm light pooled out from the latticed windows. An open door invited us into the pristine cobblestone entryway where the white walls were dyed orange in the setting sun. The name of the establishment was embossed onto a placard of darkly grained, lacquered wood by the door, and a small stone pot held an arrangement of maple and pine branches. As soon as we stepped through the door, a maid led us down the blond wood floors to a large dining room near the back, where the fresh tatami was lined in green and gold silk. Throughout the place, the walls were perfectly smooth and white, and you could hear the rushing sound of the nearby Shirakawa.

I thought the party would only be for geisha and various okiya and teahouse mistresses, but a good number of men showed up as well. I had no doubt that they arrived to search for news of old favorites or mistresses, or even to find new ones. Kohaku entered first, to the cheers and applause of a few of the guests, and I crept in silently behind her. As she went over to talk to old friends and regular customers, I simply glided over to the hostess of the party, the mistress of the Shinmori.

Waiting until she finished her story, I introduced myself and thanked her for throwing the party. I recognized a lot of the women around her as mistresses of a few teahouses and _okiya_ I'd been affiliated with, and savored the thunderstruck expression on their faces.

"My, what a…lovely kimono you're wearing," one of them managed to say. Her efforts to come up with a genuine smile were less successful. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Tsukishiro, ma'am. And I could say the same for you, Sawara-san! As I recall, your honored husband gave you that robe quite some time ago. I do hope he's well." Bear in mind that we hadn't been formally introduced yet, but I remember Sawara-san as the owner of a very low-key teahouse that few beauties like me would've patronized; I might as well have announced my true identity, but only in such a way that she'd understand.

"Oh, yes, very well indeed," she quickly mumbled and excused herself to go to the restroom.

"I don't know what's gotten into her, but I must say that you're a very beautiful geisha, Tsukishiro-san," the mistress smiled. "Please call me Hachikimi. And feel free to come here as often as you'd like."

"Thank you so much for your kindness. I think I'll be spending a lot of time here," I purred. As I excused myself to go mingle, I made a mental note to register the Shinmori as my principal teahouse.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer**: Memoirs of a Geisha and all associated characters are property of Arthur Golden and Penguin Publishing._

**Chapter 6**

My first party since returning to Gion lasted well after midnight. The sake flowed freely, although I only imbibed little. I'd need my wits about me if I was to rebuild my network of associates and clients from the ground up.

Making the rounds, I quickly found out who was happy to see me back in town, who was less than pleased, and the few who apparently didn't recognize me at all. Most of the men were glad to chat whether or not they even remembered me as Hatsumomo - it was obvious that they didn't care. The geisha had more mixed reactions, of course, either because I'd slighted them somehow or simply because of my past rivalry with Mameha. At any rate, none of them could publicly reproach me without proof. Even so, I knew to be careful not to inflame any old grievances.

But the most important group there were the mistresses, as I'd have to rely on their good will to conduct business smoothly. Not all could be swayed, unfortunately. Some of them hated me too much to let go now, but a few simply disapproved of me flouting all forms of tradition and propriety by reappearing despite my disgrace. But most were in dire need of customers and geisha to bill – whatever their feelings, they knew how skilled a geisha I was and swallowed them in favor of having another potential attraction around.

Aside from beginning to reconnect with clients and allies, I also ended up learning a lot about the fate of old friends and rivals. I learned that Korin had died years ago, after the districts closed; her life in the factories had given her a severe lung infection. Teacher Rump, the dance instructor who hated me so, retired to her family home in Nara and hadn't been heard from since. No one mentioned Pumpkin, or Kanda-san, the ornament craftsman who wanted her to wed his son. So I didn't either.

I also learned that a rumor was spreading that Mameha was on her way, a story told by an older geisha who quickly threw a haughty glare my way. I paid careful attention and made a note to be cautious to avoid her. Mameha and I's paths would cross again eventually, I was sure. But I wanted our first meeting to be on _my_ terms.

"As I recall, didn't Mameha have a lovely young apprentice a long time ago?" I said casually. "She had very unusual eyes and became quite the popular geisha."

"You mean Sayuri," someone pointed out. "It must be. She had eyes as gray as a foreigner's!"

"That's the one! She was adopted as heir to her _okiya_, too. I wonder whatever became of a girl like her?"

"I heard during a going-away party that Nobu Toshikazu had put her up somewhere during the war," another one added. "Some geisha truly are lucky."

"She'd be even luckier if that Nitta-san would come back and re-open her _okiya_," an old woman laughed. "I heard that clever snake is somewhere in the countryside, selling goods to soldiers for a shameful profit. I swear if there was anyone more focused on money than her, they'd be richer than the Emperor!"

She laughed at her own joke and several people joined in, myself included. Believable as it was, we knew to take these stories all with a grain of salt. But whatever the true fate of my old _okiya_, it was clear that they were in no hurry to reopen soon. I'd just have to be patient, and pray that they would return before it was time for Yui's debut.

That party at the Shinmori was the only one that night, and for almost a week after. The rumors that business in Gion was still painfully slow proved to be true. I kept busy by re-learning all the skills that had faded over the years at the school, and keeping an eye out for Mameha and other ghosts who could derail my careful planning. Within the second month, though, I was beginning to receive a respectable amount of engagements each night. As Fujiko-san had predicted, it wasn't remotely close to the workload I was accustomed to, but I knew that it was better than no work at all.

A month after my return, Sakura finally gave birth. I'd been away at the school at the time; when I returned, Yui was the first to tell me that she'd been taken to the hospital with labor pains. For whatever reason, the hospital she'd been sent to was nearly clear across town! By the time Kohaku could be reached and we finally arrived in the waiting room, it was almost over. Two hours later, a nurse came out and told us that she'd delivered a girl.

We both sighed with palpable relief. A girl child could be raised to be a geisha and is thus a blessing to an _okiya_; but a boy is usually apprenticed to a dresser or some other tradesman in town as soon as he's old enough to talk. An _okiya_ has no place for men of any age.

It was a crisp October evening when she was born, so of course we named the child Akiko. Not nearly so much thought is given to a child's birth name as her geisha name in Gion. Why bother when it'll be changed before she's even out of puberty? I couldn't tell you what Sakura-san was truly thinking, but she seemed happy enough in her new role as a mother. A woman from a nearby _okiya_ we were friendly with volunteered to keep track of our records for the duration of her hospital stay. Meanwhile, Kohaku and I were stuck planning a party befitting the birth of an heiress.

Two weeks later, Sakura came home with the baby to a grand celebration. Nearly everyone we were remotely acquainted with stopped by. The only upside to this was that propriety dictated that the guest bring a gift of some kind for the mother and child. Most were simple things, like a box of sweets from an upscale confectioners or a lovely hair ornament for when the girl is old enough to apprentice. But a few were quite grand, like the gift of a red and gold apprentice kimono from one of Kohaku's regular customers – we were quite pleased as we were much in need of apprentice robes, and because such an expensive gift was usually a clear sign that he was interested in her as a potential _danna_.

Childcare within an _okiya_ can be a tricky thing. A geisha would certainly never be expected to spend her days chasing after an infant, not even her own, and the mistress is usually far too busy keeping careful track of the _okiya_'s engagements and finances. Thus, the job usually falls to one of the maids or even a nanny who'd live with the _okiya_ until the child is weaned. Unfortunately, a full-time nanny was an expense that few _okiya_ could manage then, and we were short-handed enough on maids. Sakura would have to tend to her child during the day and catch up with the paperwork at night.

Inevitably, the result was that Sakura became stretched a little too thin, like a piece of _nori_ paper, and sometimes became a snappish with the maids or even her sister. The situation would've gone on like this for years, had we not received a stroke of good fortune – months after the welcoming party, a man by the name of Waseda-san proposed himself as Kohaku's _danna_. He was the one who sent us the gift of that lovely kimono.

I knew Kohaku had been reluctant to take on a new _danna_. Her relationship with her old one, Takui Matsuda, had been one of the most successful Gion had seen in generations; as you'll recall, Kohaku paid back his patronage by slipping him secrets gleaned from drunken business rivals for years. Whether love had also existed between the two of them, she refused say. However it was clear they'd both had immense regard for each other. In any case, Matsuda-san was gone and we sorely needed the income a _danna_ would provide if we were to survive having another mouth to feed. She was hardly in the position to refuse.

With Waseda-san's payments, we were able to finally afford a nanny to stop by for a few hours each day. I would much rather have seen those payments going buy a few more robes for us and Yui, but the situation with Sakura swiftly worsening mood was becoming rather tense.

Of course, I'd have liked nothing more than my own _danna_ at the time, but I also couldn't afford to leap at just any offer. At my age, I would likely only have one last _danna_ for the rest of my career.

Because men would only pay exorbitant fees for a geisha in her very ripest years, geisha over forty are often free to take lovers and boyfriends like any other woman. This was freeing in a sense – so long as they'd already earned their independence and didn't need the income. But I did, so I held out in hopes of attracting a man with enough standing to get us to a much higher branch on the tree, so to speak.

Waseda-san became Kohaku's _danna_ early that winter - spring passed, then summer as well. In the meantime, Yui's twelfth birthday came and went. She was almost old enough to apprentice, and had certainly taken to her new life. Asking around the school, her teachers were quick to tell me how exemplary she was in her speech and comportment. Of course, the only teacher whose opinion I truly cared about was the dance teacher. But there also, she had nothing but glowing remarks about her student's success. As I knew she would; I'd been tutoring Yui in dance for an hour every evening since we'd arrived in Gion. By the time she'd been in school for a year she was already at the sixth rank, nearly a full step ahead of other girls her age.

Everything was going smoothly towards her debut, except for one of the most important parts; her wardrobe. The storage vaults in which the Inoue _okiya_ had kept the adult kimono were untouched during the war. But, for whatever reason, Sakura and Kotoko-san had decided to keep their apprentice robes in locked boxes below the _okiya_ – they'd burned in the same fire that destroyed the building. Whatever wasn't heavily smoke damaged was charred beyond recognition. While such a thing would normally be a tragedy, you'll remember what they looked like in the first place, and how I'd insisted on Sakura using my own apprentice robes.

It was for that very reason that I was becoming extremely impatient for the next part of my plan to commence. Unfortunately, it depended on the arrival of a certain person to Gion – if she didn't come back in time for Yui's debut (or at all), then we would be forced to attempt to purchase an entire collection of apprentice kimono within a year. Of course this was impossible, particularly with everyone still reeling from rampant poverty that made memories of the Depression seem pleasant. Yui would unfortunately be made to drop out of the school, her debut canceled. I couldn't tell you what would've become of us if that happened.

Worry turned to true anxiety as the weather turned cool again. Yui would be ready for her debut within months. Finally, in November of 1947, I received the phone call I'd been waiting for since my arrival.

Early one chilly morning, Sakura stopped me on the way to the dining room for breakfast and told me that a man by the name of Yoshida-san was on the phone for me. I barely recognized the name at first, but rushed in behind her as soon as realization dawned upon me.

Yoshida-san was the name of a lawyer I'd been referred to during my first few months in Gion. Assured by a customer that he was a very trustworthy and thorough young man, I stopped by his office and, after a long consultation, had him draw up a special document that I hoped would solve our dilemma.

"Good morning, Tsukishiro-san. I apologize for calling so early; how are you?"

"Fine, fine as ever. You said it was important?" I urged impatiently.

"Yes. I came in to work today to find a note from the housing authority on my desk. They certainly took their time about it, but it seems that the Nitta _okiya_ reopened just last week."

"That's wonderful news! When can we expect to pay them a visit?"

"Any time you're ready is fine. We don't get many of these, you know, and certainly not in person." He was barely done speaking before I went back to my room to grab my almanac. Happily, I saw that that very next day was a perfect time for settling legal matters. I returned to the phone and set up an appointment with Yoshida-san for the following morning.

Immediately I let out a sigh of great relief – the time was finally at hand. I told Sakura what was about to transpire and she promised to say a prayer on my behalf. I thanked her, but personally felt that I'd need a bit more than a prayer if I was to walk out of this victorious.

I was an agitated mess for the rest of the day, at once giddy and deeply nervous. But all of that settled when I opened my eyes just after sunrise. After breakfast, I set out from the _okiya_ to the bathhouse. I grabbed a packet of sweets on my way back and set to work picking out my kimono for the day, a maroon robe showcasing a bare forest in dark brown with a blue-black checkered obi. I was very careful about my hair and makeup and gave myself a twice-over before setting out. A blanket of calm had entered my heart. It was honestly like the first time I'd ever performed at the Kaburenjo; I suffered everything from jitters to trembling knees until I actually picked up my fan and began to walk to the stage. In that moment, I felt a serene grace come over me as my worries melted before my skill and focus.

That is what I felt as I stepped out of the _okiya_ that morning.

Yoshida-san's office was located near downtown Kyoto, a place geisha rarely went during the day. I elicited more than my fair share of staring, which bolstered me to the point where I was able to stand as proud and lovely as an empress in the doorway of Yoshida-san's small practice. Despite the differences in our age, even he couldn't help letting his gaze flick over to me when he thought I wasn't watching. We spent an hour chatting and going over all the details of my case once more, just to make sure everything was accurate and legally sound. He then escorted me out of the building before hailing a cab back into Gion, along Shijo Avenue, and to the front gates of the Nitta _okiya_.

The place was certainly in much better condition than when I first saw it. The grime and wear had been wiped away, the broken roof tiles replaced, and there was even a paper blessing pasted to the front door.

A sense of nostalgia almost pulled me away as I knocked on the door. A maid I didn't recognize showed us inside and down the too-familiar hallway - the dark wood floors, the white plaster walls, the room in which Granny lived (and died). Upstairs, I couldn't help gazing for a moment at the doorway of the spacious room in which I'd lived for most of my life. The maid went into Mother's room to announce our arrival and, in a moment, I heard the familiar rasp of her voice; it sounded as much like a rusty pipe as ever, perhaps even more so.

When she finally bid us in I gave her my widest, most Hatsumomo-like smile. She looked more or less the same, as if she was too ugly to age any farther. When she saw me, her bulldog jowls dropped in what I took to be pure shock and her oily eyes widened so far that they looked like two rotten plums in the bottom of a pool of urine. Auntie was also there, considerably older looking than when I last saw her. Her reaction was even more pronounced, as she immediately dropped the empty teacup she was holding the moment she saw me.

I bowed to them both, polite as could be, but waited until a young girl picked up the pieces of Auntie's shattered cup and shut the door behind her to begin speaking.

"Good afternoon, Mother. Oh, forgive me – _Nitta-san_. Goodness, you two look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Hatsumomo…" Mother breathed. "I'd heard you were dead."

"How rude! We haven't laid eyes on each other in over seven years, and that's the first thing you say. Is that what you've been telling people all this time?" I teased. In actuality, it wasn't the first time I'd heard that rumor. A geisha brought it up at a party once. I suppose she meant it to be insulting, but I was actually quite pleased; it would certainly make things easier for me if people were under the impression that Hatsumomo died long ago.

"Certainly not. But perhaps we should've," Mother growled, regaining her composure. "Anyway, what do you want? If it's about letting you back into the _okiya_, I'll give you the same answer that I gave Pumpkin: absolutely not."

"That's right, whatever became of my worst apprentice? On second thought, please don't answer – we already have a great many things to talk about, and I'm sure you'd like to get back to your tea."

"I have nothing to talk about with you," Mother sniffed, and made a move like she was about to tell Auntie to show us out, but I quickly cut her off.

"Actually, Nitta-san, we do. It seems you owe me something, and I'm here to get it back." I nodded to Yoshida-san. He'd been watching our exchange with more than polite interest, but now scooted forward and bowed to Mother.

"I'm here to represent Tsukishiro-san, formerly Hatsumomo, on the subject of unpaid wages. It appears that your _okiya_ owes her a considerable amount in back payment that wasn't given at the time of her dismissal."

"What are talking about?" Mother snapped. Her earlier shock stripped away all of the calculating coolness she usually used when conducting business. "I gave her an entire month's pay in cash the day I threw her out. I shouldn't have even done that much!"

"You should've given me that much and then some," I cut in, still smiling politely.

"Indeed. Tsukishiro-san was kind enough to educate me on how a geisha's income is billed; of course I double-checked to make sure the information was accurate. That, along with some research I did on my own, allowed our firm to come up with a number we believe fits the situation." Here, he withdrew a piece of paper and began explaining how he arrived to our pre-determined conclusion.

You see, a geisha always begins by shouldering the cost of what her _okiya_ mistress pays to acquire her: her initial debt. Say a broker is paid ￥5000 for a girl - an account is made in the her name and every _sen_ of that amount goes right into it. Many geisha begin their careers in quite a bit of debt! And it'll get far worse before she even begins working it off.

But as you'll recall, Mother never paid a single _sen_ to acquire me from her cousin all those years ago. In fact, she actually profited a great deal by acquiring not only me, but my mother's entire collection of apprentice kimono and many of her adult robes, which were worth a small fortune. It not only put her cousin out of business, but it also put me the very peculiar position of never having an initial debt. If anything, Mother owed _me_! Because of this, and my meteoric popularity, my living costs were vastly outstripped by my earnings. Had I been aware of this years ago, I could've visited a lawyer and purchased my own freedom, even without a _danna_! I probably would've been the first geisha to accomplish such a feat, and it would've saved me the misery of having been undone by Sayuri and Mameha.

As Yoshida-san explained all of this to Mother and Auntie, I saw her expression go from shock to a barely contained, white hot fury. She leaped up from the table to dig out her account books and insisted on going over every single piece of debt I'd accrued over the nearly twenty years I lived there. But it was no use – in fact, she succeeded in shrinking it by an extra hundred yen.

"My goodness, Nitta-san, you _are_ sharp eyed. We would've missed that had it not been for your careful accounting!" I mocked. She just became more furious, her jaw jutting so far that I do believe her long-dead little pug could've slept quite comfortably on it. When he took out an abacus and subtracted my debts from my earnings, he wrote the number down and circled it with finality – it all came up to just under ￥80,000.

Mother immediately jumped up from the table. "Outrageous! You can't possibly expect me to pay that much! I'll not bankrupt this _okiya_ paying a little snake like you!"

"Calm down, Nitta-san," I said in mock appeasement. "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to be able to pay such an impressive sum. Not outright, anyway. Times have been so difficult, and I'm not without a heart. That's why we've drawn up a contract for you," I said, and took out a slip of paper I'd been hiding away in my room and laid it on the table. Mother looked at it like it was a sleeping viper. "The terms are really quite simple; you give me some of the kimono that belonged to Akimitsu, and we'll come to collect the rest at a later date."

" 'Some' kimono?" Mother growled, lifting the paper but never ceasing in her ugly glare at me.

"I'd say all of the apprentice robes and half of the adult kimono should suffice," I smiled. She immediately threw down the paper.

"Absolutely not. I refuse. I'd sooner sell my own daughter."

"Goodness… Well, I'm sure Sayuri-san understands. In any case, there's no room for haggling, Nitta-san. A shame; I know how good you are at it. We decided on this quite some time ago, based on the number you see here on the table. If you refuse to sign the contract, then we'll have no choice but to collect the total sum here & now."

"In case you haven't noticed, _Tsukishiro_-_san_, we have a soon-to-be apprentice of our own here. What do you suppose we do when she's ready to debut, hmm?"

"Yes, I saw," I said, thinking back to the girl who had just left. "Well, we all know how generous Mameha is with her collection – perhaps you could see if she'd be willing to train this girl, too."

"Perhaps she'd even be willing to get rid of a certain vile geisha again," Mother spat. She could hurl as many insults as she wanted, but even she knew that she'd been bested. Her face locked in a scowl that made her head look like a bundle of ill-tempered leather, she picked up a nearby inkpen and scrawled her name along the line at the bottom of the contract. After looking it over a bit, Yoshida-san also signed the contract and placed it in his briefcase before giving Mother a slight bow.

"One more thing," I said, giving Mother a bow of my own. "There's also a slight catch in the contract. I value my privacy as much as any other geisha. As a result, I would prefer if news of this little meeting doesn't leave the room. You, Yoshida-san, Auntie, and myself – consider it our little secret. If this secret were to be breached, however, I'm afraid I'll have to come and collect what's left of your debt all at once."

"Why, what's the matter?" Auntie spoke up for the first time, her face set in a grim and stony expression. "I figured you of all people would want to crow about your success here. Or are you afraid of being sent off in disgrace again? Perhaps we really should give Mameha a little talk."

Rather than answer her, I gave them both an enigmatic smile. "Please bear in mind that these kimono only cover about half of your debt. You truly would have to sell you daughter to cover the other half. Now, then – shall we get started?"

"On what?" Mother grunted, packing her pipe angrily.

"Collecting my earnings, of course! I know better than to expect you to have your apprentice robes around, but we can go ahead and take the adult ones now."

Mother looked as if she had half a mind to refuse, but she simply gave a nod to Auntie. Reluctantly, she wobbled to her feet and left the room to gather the maids. In the hallway, Yoshida-san bid his leave from us now that his job was done. Mother angrily strode down the stairs and led the way to the maid's room where, a few minutes later, Auntie led two other maids carrying one of the large lacquer cases from the storehouse outside. After all the cases were assembled in the room, they popped each one open and laid out the contents right there on the floor.

Akimitsu's kimono were now old enough to be considered antiques, but that actually added to their value. I picked out about twenty robes total, four for each season. Once those were refolded and wrapped in their paper lining, I directed them outside where they piled them into the back of a patiently waiting rickshaw. As the maids began returning the cases to the backyard, I stood in the entryway bidding my goodbyes to Mother.

"It really has been too long. Perhaps we should do this again sometime," I chuckled.

"Hatsumomo…" Mother growled, probably even angrier than she'd been when she heard I attacked Shojiro, the Kabuki star. "I should be calling you Chihiro. But here you've gone and stolen some other poor geisha's identity so you can go on terrorizing some other _okiya_."

"Please have some faith in me – I've amended my ways and terrorize no one. If you're referring to today, I'm simply settling an old debt. Nothing more personal is going on, I assure you. You did what anyone would do in your position."

"You're a monster and have never been anything but!" she spat. "You've wounded this _okiya_ grievously, and don't try to pretend you don't know it. I won't let this go unsettled!"

"It's already been settled. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other debts to collect," I giggled and, giving her a deep bow, proffered my card with the name and number of the Inoue _okiya_ on it so she knew where to send the apprentice kimono once they were out of storage.

I rode the rickshaw straight back to the _okiya_, where Sakura was eagerly waiting with Akiko. When I told her that our mission had been a roaring success, she couldn't help giving me a hug out of pure happiness. As the maids brought in the silk robes and prepared to put them with our own stores, I gave my own little sigh – with this agreement, we'd finally have the apprentice robes we needed to make sure Yui's debut was a success. My performance had ended. We were saved.

_Will this be the last we see of the Nitta crew? Stay tuned!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer**: Memoirs of a Geisha and it's characters are intellectual property of Arthur Golden and Penguin Publishing._

Chapter 7

While Mother may have been forced to comply with our demands, she certainly didn't do it quietly. I was there to gather the adult robes myself, but it was up to her to send us the apprentice robes from their storage vault. She took so long in doing so that I finally felt compelled to give Yoshida-san a call, only to hear that she was allowed 3 months to fulfill her end of the contract. I knew that she would take every single day she had to stall, no doubt trying to find a way to wriggle free of her debts or even just a way to get back at me. Thankfully, it was for naught; not long after New Years, we received five crates full of robes direct from southern Kyoto.

Just to give us trouble, the crates were all unmarked and the robes packed randomly, with no regard for organization. It took us an entire day to go through the whole collection, sorting the lightweight summer robes from the heavier fall and winter ones, and separating the special occasion robes from everything else. Nuisance that it was, at least it gave us a chance to go over them all for signs of damage and wear before securing them in our own storehouse. With Mother's spiteful foolishness behind us, we were free to continue on as usual for another several months.

Since the previous summer, I'd been entertaining a businessman and ex-noble by the name of Kazuhiro Tsuneyoshi. A distant cousin of the Baron, his title was nowhere near so lofty, although his wealth and business holdings could rival that of a low-ranking member of the royal family. Unlike his cousin, he'd spent the war amassing favors, so he'd largely escaped the heavy fines and penalties that had destroyed the Baron. Also unlike the Baron, he wasn't a pig; of course he took liberties with women wherever he could, but he was no worse than any other man. At the very least, he knew how to keep his behavior from crossing into the improper. He was quite a catch, even by Gion's previous standards. So you could imagine everyone's surprise when, in mid-March, he became my _danna_!

In the years following the war, he refocused his influence into starting a budding political career in the new government. He was quite successful at it, too – around the time he'd made the proposition, he was also in the papers for being on the short list to become our first post-war finance minister. As you could imagine, many women were vying for his attentions (and his rising fortune), and he could certainly afford any geisha in town. Of course, no one would have dared posed the question to either of us directly, but the question on everyone's lips was why he'd chosen a geisha of advanced age and middling standing such as myself. As for his answer….well, let me just say what he told to me towards the end of our relationship.

"All of these younger geisha expect me to purchase them their own collection of kimono and a fashionable apartment, like that fool Matsunaga did for all his mistresses," he'd said. "You, however, are a career woman. And I respect that. Being pretty as a day lily certainly doesn't hurt either!"

While he may not have been willing to give me my freedom (which I already more or less had, being the most senior member of our _okiya_), Kazuhiro-san otherwise filled the role of a traditional wealthy _danna_ to a tee. While there were no dance recitals to be had at the time, he sent me gifts of jewelry and the occasional kimono, as well as paying extra fees when I visited him in his grand mansion in Pontocho. I can happily say that his attentions finally pushed the nameless Sanri _okiya_ into top-tier status. What we lacked in history, we could now boast in prestige and wealth. Not only was he free to spend lavishly on us, but our name was now tied to a member of the royal family. Don't misunderstand: under the new government's rules, Kazuhiro-san no longer had a title or any claim to the throne of Japan. But he still shared the same bloodline as the royal family, and that was all that mattered in those days.

Although we were thrilled at all of our good fortune after more than a year of struggling, it really couldn't have come at a worse time. It was the beginning of cherry blossom viewing season in Kyoto, when all but the most unpopular geisha were run ragged with requests to attend _hanami_ parties or boat excursions of all kinds. I'd also just begun the process of planning for Yui's debut, which was set to begin the following month.

It was enough to exhaust anyone, but I truly began to show my age at this point by waking up one morning with a terrible fever. I was grateful for the rest, but deeply upset by the loss of revenue. I was especially sore that I'd have to miss the grand reopening of _The Dances of the Old Capital_, the first time they'd been held since Gion closed. I was too sick to even sit in the audience with Sakura and watch Kohaku's performance. To help ease my disappointment, Kohaku surprised me by purchasing an instant camera and teaching Sakura how to use it. It was quite interesting to view the photographs of an event that happened hours before, blurry as they were - Kohaku blamed that on Sakura's photography skills, which I didn't doubt; she never shared Kohaku's interest in modern technology - and I thanked them for their consideration. But it we all knew how much I fiercely missed being a dancer and had hoped to join the returning event, the biggest all year.

To get over my disappointment, once I was better I immediately threw myself into planning Yui's debut. As the robes were being dragged out, I consulted Chikako-san on when to start her cocoon phase, as well as the perfect date to conduct the ceremony to bind us as sisters. For Yui, the process began in late April, when I took her for her first visit to the hairdresser. I instructed her on how to care for it and how to properly choose her hair ornaments as we waited in the hallway, and again on the way home. Not that she needed any of it right then; it took her almost the entire week to master the _takamakura_ enough to salvage her hairstyle in the first place.

A kimono, however, she handled much more gracefully. So much so that she didn't even need the hollow gourd which is a traditional gift to a novice apprentice from her older sister. Instead, I gifted her with her own makeup set of wax, brushes, and pigments. An apprentice usually uses a more senior geisha's collection until she can afford her own, but Kohaku and I no longer even owned any of the traditional makeup an apprentice would use. We spent the last day going over the importance of color in makeup, and all the little tricks it can play with your appearance.

Finally the day came when we were to conduct the binding ceremony. Considering the momentous occasion, we had the maids wake up extra early to fill our cedar tub. While we probably could've afforded to use it more often by then, it was honestly such a hassle that we still reserved for only the biggest occasions. After everyone had bathed, I got ready and ate a quick breakfast while waiting for the dresser to finish with everyone else; as the most junior geisha, Yui would always be last to have her obi tied. I gave her a once over to ensure that everything had been done satisfactorily and together we all filed outside into the warm early morning air.

It was the first day of May, and the early summer air was already somewhat thick and humid. By the time we made it to Gion shrine to give the priests our offerings and pray for good fortune in her career, Yui looked like she was going to melt. Unfortunately, those special occasion robes are always made with heavy, black silk brocade and weighed down even more by all the embroidery; on a hot day, they can feel like you're wearing one of those silly fur coats. As much as I could commiserate with Yui's pain, there was no way to speed up the proceedings without seeming improper. We could only hope that her endurance would hold out until we arrived at the Shinmori.

While she did make it, Yui had sweat so much that her make up had begun to melt and we had to take her into the bathroom to try to save it. The ceremony itself took place in one of the banquet rooms, with one of the large doors open to the garden out back. While I'd like to say that her ceremony was as lovely and full of fortuitous omens as mine was, nature had other ideas. The sky was already a bit overcast when we left the _okiya_; by the time we drank the last cup and bowed to each other, a steady rain had begun to fall. Many would consider rain on a girl's debut to be an ill omen, but I held no such concern – you'll recall how perfect the weather was on the day I debuted as Hatsumomo. I'd say that ended about as badly as it could have.

Rain or no rain, on that day in 1948, the orphan named Yui had been officially replaced by the apprentice geisha Katsumiyo.

Despite my illustrious new _danna_, I still enjoyed more or less the same amount of popularity in Gion I always had. It was perfectly respectable, but not nearly enough to warrant letting her derive her name from mine. It should also be said that I still felt it prudent to keep a low profile. Should Katsumiyo become popular as we hoped, sharing any part of my name would only bring unwanted scrutiny.

After the ceremony, everyone ate lunch and chatted happily with Hachikimi-san. We took our time about it, to give both the rain time to stop and Katsumiyo time to recover before we had to be out again. Unfortunately, the rain didn't let up and Hachikimi-san had to lend everyone an umbrella. By the time we returned from paying our respects to the fifteen teahouses and ten _okiya_ I'd formed relationships with these past two years, we both needed another bath and Katsumiyo had to redo her makeup all over again.

Her very first engagement was to take place the next day, on a leisure boat drifting along the banks of the river. Though it began with a short tea ceremony conducted by myself and two other geisha, it was an informal affair. Like a proper novice, Katsumiyo sat behind me throughout the party and tried to not look bored. She repeated the act at every single party for a week – seeing as how there was no pressure from Mother or anyone else at the time, I saw no reason to break protocol. However, that all changed when Katsumiyo came in from her lessons one day.

I'd made a point of teaching Katsumiyo the art of subtly ferreting information from people – it was a glorious skill for a geisha to have, and one that most don't truly develop until they're much older. But I'd done it with her since she first started her lessons, having her report to me various rumors and goings-on in the school each day.

"There are 3 new girls in our classes now," she recited to me as I ate lunch one morning. "Two of them are from the Hiraya _okiya_; I think they're twins. And one of them is from the Nitta _okiya_."

I'd been eating lunch right then, but froze the moment I heard the name. Katsumiyo hadn't been informed of our current bad blood with the Nitta family, or where our collection of kimono had come from. How much did I want her to know? It wasn't that I didn't trust her, of course. However, she was still a child and may let some things slip accidentally.

"Tell me about this Nitta girl," I began, as casually as possible.

"Her name is Etsuko, but that's it. She's really quiet. Even for a girl who just started, she keeps to herself a lot!"

While trying to keep my interest as hidden as possible, I told her to learn all she could about this girl. She may not even be an apprentice yet, but it's only good policy to keep a close eye on your enemies and rivals. And if anyone in town could be counted as my enemy back then, it was certainly the Nitta _okiya_!

Over the course of the next few days, we learned little Etsuko had come to Gion with Mother from the farm they'd hidden in during the war. She was also two years younger than Katsumiyo, so she wouldn't be starting her apprenticeship for some time yet. When pressed on the subject of her older sister, I learned some very interesting news; she said that her older sister was originally meant to be the only geisha who lived in her _okiya_ (who I knew to be Sayuri), but she had stopped entertaining recently. This information came to us in a trickle (Katsumiyo hadn't been lying when she said this girl was tight-lipped!) so I could only guess at when this new revelation had occured.

While I couldn't possibly fathom what could cause Sayuri – a geisha not so far out of her prime as I, and still quite popular – to suddenly withdraw, all I cared about was quietly celebrating another unintended victory. No matter what the reason was, she was one less threat I had to worry about. Of course, my relief was just replaced by another worry. A week later, Katsumiyo came home and told me that Etsuko had revealed that Mother was in talks with another geisha to become her older sister: Mameha.

Perhaps I shouldn't say worry – trepidation was closer to my actual reaction. I'd prepared for the eventuality that Mameha and I would be rivals once again, but I hadn't expected it to be quite so soon. I'd successfully managed to avoid her since returning to Gion but thought perhaps this was a sign that the time to strike was now, while I still had the advantage of surprise.

Of course, I wasn't a headstrong, impulsive young woman I'd been before: before I even looked at my almanac I wrote a letter directly to Fujiko-san, telling her of the situation. I didn't bother asking her opinion if I should go through with it, however, as I knew fate would have its way whether anyone approved or not. Her response to me mirrored that sentiment.

_"While deeply skeptical at first, I reluctantly must admit that it's likely you two share a malevolent _en_. So long as the both of you stand in the same place, one will endeavor to destroy the other"_, she'd written. "_Whatever happens, I suggest you strike carefully and decisively. Your rivalry will see one or even both of you banished again if allowed to fester and grow as it did before! End this whole wretched thing, if you can._"

I took her words to heart and came up with an idea. Carefully pouring over my almanac, I chose a day in late July to don an ice blue robe with a silver pattern along the hem and make my way to Higashi-oji Avenue, where I heard that Mameha was living. Despite no longer having a _danna_, Mameha still lived separately from her _okiya_ – a geisha's freedom is dependent on having a collection of kimono, not her income. And Mameha had been smart enough to hold onto her collection over the course of the war, rather than sell it off for cash or favors like so many others.

Mameha's new apartment wasn't nearly so grand as her first one had been. In fact, she lived above a Chinese pharmacy, just as I had back in Tokyo. Walking up a flight of stairs along the side of the building, I knocked on her door and tried to steel myself for the confrontation to come. A maid answered the door shortly, and let me inside. I was surprised to see that the apartment was even arranged like mine had been, a one room flat with only a small indoor privy off to the side and a square of space that served as the kitchen. I could see at once that her maid likely lived elsewhere and only came to tend her house during the day.

Mameha herself was sitting at the low table, sipping a mug of chilled tea and reading a magazine. I thought she might react with shock to see me standing in the doorway, as Mother had – instead, she set her cup down and stood, her face stony but unreadable.

"Good afternoon, Mameha-san," I smiled coquettishly. "Do forgive me for stopping by unannounced. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Hatsumomo…. I'd heard rumors that you'd returned and were masquerading as another geisha. I thought nothing of them, but now I see that I was wrong to do so."

"Goodness! Such strong accusations, and we'd only been reunited for less than five minutes! I don't recall you as the type to get right to the point, but I suppose we've all changed over the years," I smiled and sat down at the table, unbidden. It was a bit rude of me, but Mameha didn't bother to protest; she knew better than anyone that I didn't show up on people's doorsteps for no reason. Much less hers.

She waited until the maid was done serving a fresh round of tea before asking her to go out on some meaningless errand. Once the door was safely closed behind her and footsteps had receded, she finally refocused her attention on me.

"All right, what is it that you want, Hatsumomo?" she glared. "No, let me guess; you're here to get even with me for running you out of Gion. Well I'll have you know that no one ran you out – if anything, it's your own fault you got thrown out. Blame no one but yourself for your behavior."

"As nostalgic as it is to hear one of your famous lectures, that's not what I came here for," I said in a slightly mocking tone. "And please, call me Tsukishiro. It appears that we've both grown old, Mameha-san. I won't presume to know your mind on the subject, but I believe rivalries are best left to the young."

"I couldn't agree more," she cut in suddenly. "Which is why I believe that it would be in everyone's best interest if you were to leave here immediately. I have no further quarrels with you…_Tsukishiro_."

"Oh, I believe we have many scores left unsettled, _Mameha_-_san_. But I agree that rekindling our little war with each other would benefit no one. All the endless sniping and dustups were fun in the past, but old fools like ourselves would just look silly having it out in the teahouses like angry hens! Which is why I've come here with a proposal. How about a contest – a game, if you will?" I meant to go on, but Mameha stopped me.

"Absolutely not," she said with finality. "And as I recall, you did this once before and it resulted in you getting thrown out."

"And as _I_ recall, you never collected your prize." Here I laid my parcel on the table and unfolded the wax paper. I'm sure you can guess that it was the kimono from Mameha's lover, Taka-san. Having been kept hidden away and unworn for so many years, the orchid coloring and wax embroidery was just as striking as it was day I intercepted it. Mameha's face became unreadable as her eyes lingered on the robe. Finally she closed them and picked up her tea mug.

"I know what you're trying to do. Unfortunately for you, my time with him was just a fling and my feelings have since cooled. I've already gotten my retribution for that, as well as you putting Sayuri-san up to ruin one of my best kimono, **and** for destroying the career of my childhood friend."

"That's right; whatever became of your little lapdog apprentice? I hear from a very reputable source that she's no longer entertaining. The war hasn't been as harsh to her as it was to Tomie, has it?" Tomie was Gion's latest tragic story. A very attractive and popular geisha in the later years before the districts closed, she'd survived the war, but at great cost – she lost her arm in a raid near Okinawa. Of course she could never be a geisha again, and people mourned that her beauty had been marred in such a terrible way.

"Don't be stupid," Mameha huffed. "Sayuri is just fine. She's stopped entertaining due to a falling out with Nobu Toshikazu about her new _danna_, and they decided it was for the best that she withdraw from Gion. I can't say that I'm too sorry to see her go, now that I know you're prowling around again."

"Well, that is quite a story. And, since it appears that I can't convince you to see this through to the end, I suppose I'll be taking this robe and getting rid of it. But thank you for the information, as I'm sure it'll make for an interesting story this evening. I'm sure people will also be glad to hear that you're over your little heartbreak." If I couldn't use Mameha's emotions to manipulate her, then all I had left was to threaten the one thing she valued above all – her carefully constructed reputation.

Mameha remained the paragon of a proper, traditional Kyoto geisha. If people found out that she'd done something as improper as having an affair with one of her _danna_'s aides, then she wasn't above suffering at least some consequences. Even if she didn't, people certainly wouldn't think quite so highly of her anymore. Decades of careful work on Mameha's part would be undone overnight.

Once she realized what I was threatening to do, Mameha threw me an ugly look before drawing herself up like an angry snake.

"Fine – you want to be thrown out again? Be my guest! Whatever ridiculous plan you've got in your head now, spit it out and leave."

"I'm so glad you see it my way, Mameha-san," I smiled. "I find it very likely that Nitta-san has approached you about training a new girl they have in their _okiya_, correct? If not, I highly recommend her. I can say nothing about her mental state but she looks attractive enough. In any case, I have an apprentice of my own now, and I think they could both benefit from a little friendly rivalry. The rules are simple; we both know a geisha's true level of success is dependent on the type of _danna_ she can attract, so why don't we meet back here once they've turned their collars and see whose apprentice has caught the bigger fish? The loser must formally retire from Gion – I daresay we should both be about the age to do so by the end of it regardless!"

"And why would I even remotely agree to these terms?"

Until this point, I'd been all playful mockery and coquettish jabs. But now I faced her in lethal seriousness, as we both were; the truest of rivals.

"Because I know how badly you want to be rid of me," I said. "We see each other as nothing but a thorn in each other's sides, and that's when one of us merely enters the same room! I'd like to enjoy my remaining years in Gion, and heaven knows I can hardly do it tiptoeing around you. For all your cold control, I'm willing to say that you must feel the same. So, one last show of skill and we can be done with this foolishness forever."

Mameha gave me a hard look for a long while, before releasing her breath and staring bitterly into her teacup. "I'd hate to agree with you on anything, but in this case I must. I have no interest in spending my remaining geishahood with you as a rival. To be honest, Nitta-san _has_ called me about apprenticing Etsuko now that Sayuri is barred from Gion. I'd refused, but perhaps this is fate telling me to reconsider. Fine; if it will finally rid me of you for good, I will compete with you one last time."

Rather than say anything, I bowed to Mameha and stood up to leave. I made sure to leave the kimono behind, with its intended owner at last.

* * *

_Hi, everyone! Thank you for reading until now and for all of your kind comments! Unfortunately we've now caught up with all the chapters I had pre-written, so **WMR will be on hiatus for the next 2~3 weeks**. Rather than attempt to write a new chapter per week (impossible with my current life schedule), it makes more sense to just take a break for a while and write content well in advance. Hopefully doing this will not only cut down on hiccups in the posting schedule, but will also improve the overall quality of the work. __Thank you for your patience and I hope you'll all return at the end of the month to continue reading Hatsumomo/Tsukishiro's story!_

_Good luck to everyone going back to school!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Swiggity-swack, I am back! _

_**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. All the characters therein bear no resemblance to any person, living or dead._

* * *

That warm afternoon in Higashi-oji was the last I'd see of Mameha for a long time. That was no accident. I'd provoked the tiger terribly by stepping on its tail, after all – I'd do well to stay out of its way, lest she gobble me up! She may have lost a good deal of her standing by losing her big shot _danna_, but she was by no means less of a geisha for it.

In fact, she seemed to be all the better! Without having to dance around the whims of the infamously capricious and temperamental Baron, Mameha was a free woman. It seemed all she needed was a little push to realize it – within a month I went from almost never hearing her name, to her being the talk of the town! Unwittingly, the return of the great Mameha became a beacon to the rest of Gion that the dark years really were over.

It was difficult making sure our paths didn't cross in all that time. Meanwhile, I kept careful tabs on her movements but heard nothing particularly special, other than her sudden second debut in the teahouses. The best the local gossips could come up with was a story that she was soon to get a new wealthy _danna_, something many of us knew to be patently false.

Mameha was never a "_danna_ hunter" like many geisha, and certainly had no need of one while she was still independent. But I'm sure the biggest reason was that there were almost certainly no offers - the Baron would be a tough act to follow, and even well-to-do men in those days wouldn't have been eager to try matching up. No one likes being second best, after all.

I tried making the best of my head start, but the universe had other plans. Nearly 4 years after the teahouses of Gion reopened, business still crawled along at its' slow pace – I attended as many parties in a week as I'd done in a single night before. There was peace and the economy was beginning to return to how things were before the war, but people simply weren't ready to enjoy themselves with abandon like before. And if things were difficult for a practiced adult geisha, they were that much worse for a young apprentice who had no regulars of her own yet.

Had I really risked everything to come back to a Gion that would never recover? You could imagine my pain and frustration in those days, both for myself and Katsumiyo. So feel free to imagine how my feelings boiled over at hearing that Mameha had debuted her apprentice much, much sooner than anticipated!

I heard it first from Katsumiyo, who reported that Etusko had come to school one morning in a new _wareshinobu_ hair knot, and fished the details out from the teahouses later. Mamaha had indeed contacted Mother again and agreed to train the girl I saw when I last visited her. Surprising everyone, she debuted the girl two weeks into snowy January, despite her having taken lessons for less than a year - little Etsuko was now the apprentice geisha Umeha.

By the end of February, Katsumiyo announced that Umeha had secured the Apprentice Award for that month. It turned out that she would've won it for January as well, but novices are not allowed to participate. Immediately I suspected that Mameha was pulling the same desperate trick I had with Pumpkin, taking her to many parties in a single night and billing hosts for the whole hour. But it only took the slightest amount of prodding to find that this wasn't true.

Umeha was staying at engagements after her older sister left, just as a proper apprentice should. It was just that Mameha was attending far more engagements that the average geisha at the time; naturally, so was Umeha. It was this disparity that pushed her so high above the others and explained her meteoric popularity.

You see, Mameha had spent so many of her days as the Baron's mistress cleaning up his drunken messes, that many of his colleagues began to think much more of her than him! She had maintained many of those relationships throughout the war, and many of those men managed to walk out of those dark times just as wealthy as they were before. She now drew upon that vast network of high-profile men to secure engagements for herself and her apprentice where there were none in the teahouses. It was more than clever - it was a brilliant stroke of resourcefulness.

And it was _highly_ infuriating. Mameha was able to simply walk in and resume her rightful crown, while I had to struggle with the common geisha to find a new one for myself!

Well, I wasn't going to struggle alone. If she could leverage her relationships, then so could I.

My first appointment with my _danna_ of the year, we sat in a private room of the Mizuki - no longer closed to me since the old proprietress had retired - while I poured drinks and he complained about some disagreeable business with his political friends in Tokyo.

"Really, Kazuhiro-san, you know I've never seen or heard of these people in my life!" I scolded. "It'd be so much easier to follow these stories of yours if I actually knew who they were."

"You'd know them if you read the papers," he shrugged.

"I do read the papers. And I hardly ever see any of these men you tell me about mentioned. If this goes on for much longer, I'll have to assume you come to Gion just to spin tall tales!"

"Don't be ridiculous. I just never had the occasion to introduce you. We've been so busy in Tokyo dealing with those damn Americans and the Prime Minister's schemes that we hardly have time to sleep in our own beds, let alone get together for anything! You know this is the first time I've managed to get out of town since October?"

"I believe it very strongly, since Tsuneyoshi-sama hasn't graced us with a visit since August. At this rate you'll drop dead before you get anything done!"

"See what I mean? But times are too sensitive for higher-ups like us to be seen partying at the moment. It would look disrespectful to the nation."

I seethed, but to push the issue any farther would be imprudent to say the least. As weeks passed into early spring, I had no choice but to keep trying to sustain the both of us on whatever dull trickle of small engagements we managed to find. Meanwhile, Umeha had become a regular fixture at the Ichiriki and other high profile teahouses throughout Kyoto. I was tasked to finish the rivalry between Mameha and myself, but it seemed like she was going to finish me first!

The only hope that kept me from writing to Fujiko-san in utter despair was that cherry blossom season was swiftly approaching. I honestly had no idea how going to _hanami_ parties would help Katsukiyo's popularity any more than Umeha's, but it was all I had. I'm afraid my concern had begun to infect others, as Katsumiyo woke up one morning complaining of odd dreams.

Looking back, I had simply no idea what was coming.

The days passed into early April. The weather was getting warm earlier than usual, and the trees lining the Shirakawa were heavy with pregnant blooms. We already had healthy crowds of tourists in Kyoto to view the buds, and people predicted a busier than usual _hanami_ season once the transitory, pale flowers finally began raining their petals.

Everyone was in the middle of breakfast when the postman came with a letter addressed to me. I didn't understand why someone would go through the trouble of having it delivered in such a way, until I saw that it was direct from my _danna_ in Tokyo. He'd successfully secured a spot in the newly created ministry of international trade and was throwing a private _hanami_ party at his mansion the next day to celebrate.

I was sorry to miss out on an engagement I'd been looking forward to that day, but it couldn't be helped. I was about to ask Kohaku to go in my place, when I saw the rest of the letter – the party was to be a small get-together with a few colleagues who helped him to his new position...and members of the royal family. I nearly choked.

You'll remember that Kazuhiro was a Baron like his cousin, Matsunaga. As part of the conditions of Japan's surrender, low-level nobles like them had their titles stripped and made commoners like everyone else. But none of that altered the fact that they still shared the same blood as the Emperor, or any relationships they'd forged within the Imperial family during their lives. I'd heard rumors that my _danna_ still had contacts in the royal family. Now I had the proof of it in my hands.

I was so happy that I immediately lost my appetite, if that makes any sense. It took tremendous self-control to not shout the good news. Instead the others did it for me.

Kohaku leapt from the table and tried to give orders to the maids, but was so excited she hardly made sense. Sakura had been feeding her daughter; the moment she heard we'd be entertaining royalty, she dropped the little spoon she'd been holding and begged me to repeat myself. Of course, Katsumiyo merely covered her mouth and stared, eyes as wide as oranges. This would be big news to anyone. I could only imagine how it would feel to such a young girl.

It took several good minutes to get everyone calmed down enough to start making sense of the situation.

"The formal kimono!" Sakura insisted. "It has to be the formal kimono with our crest!"

"She's going to a _hanami_ party, not a binding ceremony!" Kohaku rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure Tsukishiro-san can dress herself. The real question is what are we gonna put _Katsumiyo-chan_ in?"

"W-what? You mean I'm going?" Katsumiyo flushed, clearly even more stunned.

"Of course you're going! This is a private invite from her _danna_. I certainly couldn't go with her! I have my own _danna_ – it wouldn't be seemly."

She was quite right, of course. But even if that wasn't the case, Katsumiyo would've come with me regardless. No way was I going to waste this golden opportunity!

"What about the pink robe with the blue flowers?" I suggested

"If I may, Tsukishiro-san, that's boring and cliche," Kohaku declared with her usual candor. "This engagement will probably be the highlight of the girl's whole apprenticeship. She just has to wear something...spectacular!"

A few more suggestions were bandied about (and rejected) before Sakura suddenly gasped.

"The Baron's kimono! The robe showing the coast of Hakone! It's perfect!"

"It **is** a pretty astonishing robe, sister...but it's also an adult kimono."

"So? It's the most exquisite thing we own," Sakura insisted. "The train might take some getting used to, but I'm sure it's nothing Katsumiyo-chan can't handle with a little practice. And we have at least three _darari_ obi just like it! You want to give them a show? Just imagine a beautiful apprentice walking through the cherry blossoms in _that_."

We all looked at each other, except Katsumiyo, who'd never seen the robe and had no idea what we were talking about. Sakura was quite correct in that it was easily the most beautiful and one-of-a-kind robe you could hope to find anywhere – it was so precious that we kept it in storage, waiting for a big enough occasion to warrant it. With no one offering any decent arguments against it, it looked as if this was the occasion.

I made a call to our dresser and told him to send his apprentice to pull a certain robe out of our storage vault near the edge of town. Meanwhile, Sakura ran upstairs to cancel all of our engagements for the next day.

* * *

_All the chapters leading up til now have sort of just been me setting up the scene, so to speak. From this point on, WMR's true overall plot begins. This is also the point where Katsumiyo starts being a much more active character in the story. Please look forward to it! I'd love to hear people's opinions. Thanks for reading!_


	9. Chapter 9

_It has only just occurred to me that the famous kimono from last chapter was actually supposed to depict **Kobe**. Whoops! Too late to change it now._

_**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. The characters depicted are not meant to portray any factual persons living or dead._

I still remember that day quite clearly. It was a bright and cool morning, with plenty of promise to be a cloudless day. The cherry blossoms had finally come into bloom the night before, so the trees were awash in every possible shade of pink as Kazuhiro's sleek, black car appeared along the avenue to pick us up.

It would be some time before we arrived at his pleasure home in a quiet suburb of Pontocho. We tried to entertain ourselves by taking in the spectacular sight through the windows, the people already pouring into the streets to walk among the flowers, and the new posters for _The Dances of the Old Capital_, set to begin in only a few weeks time. I was wearing a kimono of blue-gray silk with a high obi in midnight blue, both of which had glittering gold accents. Katsumiyo was beside me, of course in the Hakone kimono.

When we told the dresser what had happened, he dispensed with finding a rickshaw and immediately ordered his apprentice a cab. We had the kimono by lunch, carefully hand-delivered and wrapped in tissue paper like precious cargo. In a show of gratitude, we insisted on sharing the cost of the fare, as cabs were very pricey back then.

Laying eyes on it for the first time, Katsumiyo could at once see why we'd made such a fuss over this particular robe. Almost in a trance, she couldn't help running her fingers along the little cliffs and houses, rendered masterfully in threads of colored lacquer. If you'll remember, the tableau extended all the way into the sea, resulting in a much longer train than usual. We were right that it would take young Katsumiyo quite a bit of practice to walk around in it properly. I ordered her to parade along the outer walkway in it for the rest of the evening, until she could wear it as gracefully as any other robe without losing the effect of the azure waves capped in ivory foam trailing behind her.

Aside from a silver ornament that was waxed into her hair, we were very careful choosing her hair ornaments and makeup to match the kimono. Most girls would of course wear as much pink as possible to match the cherry blossoms everyone came to see. But my plans revolved around making sure no one who saw her would care about some stupid flowers! We chose a shade of red that bordered on violet for her makeup, highlighting her cat-like eyes and full lips – Kohaku owned a set of antique hair ornaments in dark jade that she lent Katsumiyo for the event.

By the time we finished tying the black-and-gold checked dangling obi around her chest, the effect was jaw-dropping. Katsumiyo looked like some wandering young goddess that simply decided to go for a stroll, unconcerned that she dragged a whole town along with her.

The effect became even more pronounced once we actually arrived at Kazuhiro's home. It was a traditional Japanese-style mansion, with sloping eves lacquered in green, rich-grained dark wood, and a koi pond shaded by maples near the front entrance. The only Western influence was the white gravel drive turning into a rotunda by the front door. Against such grandeur, the dignified grace of Katsumiyo's transformation became something bordering on majesty.

A maid bowed low to us in the door and began leading the way to the back garden, where everyone was already gathered. I noticed that while she spoke to both of us, her eyes never left Katsumiyo. I smiled – this day was about my apprentice, not me. We simply set out to make a good impression; however at this rate, we might walk out with a _mizuage_ patron!

"Oh, Tsukishiro-san!" I heard Kazuhiro call out from a side hall, where he'd been speaking with a tall, thin man behind him. "I thought that might be you. You geisha are always fashionably late…" He peered to see who I'd brought with me and nearly stopped in his tracks.

"Really, Tsuneyoshi-sama, don't you recognize my own apprentice?" I chided playfully. "It's hardly the first time you've met!"

"Well for a moment I wasn't sure if she was human or some fairy! You mean to tell me that this exquisite creature is little Katsumiyo-chan?!"

"Excuse me, Kazuhiro-_dono_, but I believe introductions are in order," the thin man sniffed, peering curiously at us but clearly not happy with being ignored.

"Oh yes, yes. This is my cousin, Prince Kohito. He's His Majesty's second brother."

Normally the protocol for commoners meeting members of the royal family was to bow as low to the ground as possible and stay there until they left. But because we obviously couldn't do that _and_ entertain them, I told Katsumiyo to simply be as deferential as possible in her speech and comportment. It was the best we could do – in all my years at the top of Gion, I'd entertained many foreign dignitaries and celebrities, but even I'd never been given the honor of entertaining genuine royalty.

"Good afternoon, Your Excellency," we both intoned, bending until the blood started rushing to my head. "I beg your indulgence in meeting you, and hope you'll permit my apprentice as well."

"Yes, well…" He seemed slightly pacified at this display of respect, but anyone would be to see such grandly dressed women bowing to him. It must be quite a feeling, even for someone as used to great respect as a prince. And Kohito really did give off the feeling of someone used to being the biggest fish in nearly any room he walked into! I made a note to pay him extra attention, as one would with any man whose ego needed constant massaging.

"Now that we've all gotten to know each other better, let's make our way to the party. We finally have something better than flowers to look at, and it's a waste to keep her inside!" Kazuhiro laughed at his own joke as he led the way to the garden. Well, I say garden, but it was really a small pleasure forest. There was a large, rolling lawn of manicured grass, webbed by stone paths weaving through dense clusters of cherry blossom and plum trees. Another, larger koi pond bubbled in the far off corner, rimmed in all manner of flowering plants and shaded by an old peach tree. Behind that was a wide expanse of square structures covered in white cloth, where I knew he was having a path of wisteria installed.

The party had less than a dozen attendees in total, not counting Katsumiyo and myself. Most of them were introduced to us as business partners and politicians here to congratulate him on his new title as Minister. The rest were Kohito, his other brother Motohito, and his two children: Prince Tsuruhito and Princess Chikako, nephew and niece to the Emperor.

You might find it strange that my _danna_ would invite his geisha mistress to such a private function, let alone introduce us to his family. Normally this would be unthinkable, if only out of respect for his wife. But Kazuhiro-san was a widower; his wife unfortunately died giving birth during the war. Fortunately, his infant son survived the ordeal - now that he had his heir, he saw no reason to re-marry. He was saddened, of course, but you must understand that theirs was a marriage of duty, not love. He simply hired a nanny and spent his considerable fortune entertaining mistresses for companionship. His family knew this about him and quietly accepted it.

I'm very happy to say that, among all these lofty people in Japanese society, Katsumiyo was the one who absorbed all the attention. She could hardly move three feet without being accosted by someone, often bringing a friend to gawk at a real-life _maiko_ from Gion and her absolutely stupendous kimono.

"I'm so glad you two are here!" Prince Motohito laughed after three too many cups of strong sōchu. "Those children of mine are too modern for their own good. You wouldn't believe what it took to get my daughter to wear a _yukata_ instead of another overpriced thing from Paris! Maybe now they'll appreciate the charms of their own country a bit more."

Thankfully the novelty began to wear off after a few hours, when people began splitting off into smaller groups and fell into conversation about all manner of business and politics. I was used to dealing with clouds of admirers, but poor Katsumiyo clearly was not; I could see that it took all of her fledgling skill to mask how nervous and uncomfortable she'd felt since we arrived. I could only hope she'd have plenty of opportunities to get accustomed.

Most of the guests were far too busy to stay for the whole party and, as the afternoon wore on, the only ones left were Kazuhiro's relatives, who I later learned would be spending the night. At this point it was more like an intimate family reunion than a party, so the rules became very relaxed. The brothers went off someplace amongst themselves, leaving Kazuhiro and myself to sit on the veranda to sip drinks and chat. At some point he nudged me.

"Looks like Tsuruhito learned to appreciate Japanese beauty alright," he chuckled, calling my attention to the far walking path where Katsumiyo was chatting amiably with the young prince.

The younger prince and princess were the other standouts at the gathering, being still in their teens. Both were attractive youths, I suppose. Tsuruhito had thick hair parted to the side like you see on American movie stars, and long lashes around bright, black eyes. He still had a boyish softness to his features despite being nearly as tall as his father, and would undoubtedly grow still more in the next few years. Normally I'd be very cautious about leaving an apprentice alone with such a charming young man, but the sake made me permissive.

I also admit that my attention had been absorbed by Princess Chikako, every bit the striking beauty I ever was growing up. Although she perceptually had a cold, distant expression on her face, as if nothing could possibly ever interest her again, this only resulted in an aura of (probably false) depth and mystery. Even in a simple spring green _yukata_ with her hair spilling casually around her shoulders as she fed the koi, she looked like a photograph in some extremely fashionable magazine.

"How could he not, when he meets a girl who could rival his impossibly lovely sister? If you'll forgive me saying so, I'm almost sorry she's a princess instead of a geisha! Anyone who ended up her older sister would quickly put everyone else out of work."

"That'll be Katsumiyo soon if she keeps going around like that. And I'm sure Chikako-chan would probably far happier as a _maiko_ anyway."

"Kazuhiro-san, being a geisha is a lifetime of hard work! Do you expect me to believe for a moment that she'd be better off in Gion than as a princess?"

"Infinitely," he declared, tipping back his cup with an air of complete assurance. "Don't mistake me – I'm extremely happy I was born a baron instead of a fisherman or some such. But being a member of the imperial family is massive pain. And I'm only a member of the branch family! Once you get to the main family, your life is drastically different than anyone else's. I don't see how Motohito-san can subject his children to it."

"Even so, you can't possibly tell me that you've never once envied them their rank and privileges. And I'm sure it must be quite a bit of pressure to be a member of the main family as well. Young Tsuruhito is in line for the throne, after all."

At this Kazuhiro threw his head back and laughed out loud. "I thought you were knowledgeable about these things, Tsukishiro-san! A kid like Tsuru ascending the throne… They'd ask **me** first! And I'd turn them down in an instant. Don't worry; Tsuruhito is a perfectly fine young man," he rushed to add. "If I didn't have my own son, I'd gladly pass everything I have to him. But Tsuruhito is an imperial prince in name only. The main family couldn't bear the thought of any of their own having their precious titles taken away, so they declared that any children of the imperial princes are now princes and princesses themselves. It was the only rank the Americans weren't allowed to touch."

"Even so, he must still be treated as a genuine prince?" I insisted, continuing to pour drinks.

"Yes, that's true. They inherited all the responsibilities with no actual chance at getting the throne, poor things." He stopped and sipped his chilled sake quietly, peering at the lovely scene before him with an expression that suggested he wasn't really seeing it. When he finally spoke, he said "I'm going to take a stab and guess that by asking these questions, you're planning something involving us and little Katsumiyo."

Kazuhiro was obviously a man familiar with the ways of geisha, if you couldn't tell. We often talked with each other very frankly about things that would otherwise be unthinkable to tell a customer, let alone one's _danna_. But I felt it crossed some invisible line to fully admit that I'd come here planning to use his family's influence for my own devices. Even if it was true.

"…We all must get along the best we can," I smiled cryptically. "Katsumiyo in particular will need a lot of help overcoming her rivals. These times are especially difficult for us in Gion. If a lofty enough man were to propose himself to us in any capacity…well."

"I wasn't aware Katsumiyo had any rivals," he raised his eyebrows and held out his cup to be filled.

"Then I'll certainly never tell them to you."

"Be careful, Tsukishiro," he warned, his voice quiet and slightly edged in bitterness. "Take it from someone who's seen it firsthand – the Chrysanthemum Throne only respects those who were chosen by divine right to be there. It's destroyed better people than you or me."

I quietly filled his cup and bowed to him. He was quite right, too. Members of the royal family were free to take lovers and mistresses like anyone else, even among commoners. But I'd never heard of any of them lasting more than a short while, after which their lives were never quite the same.

You may recall that Mameha's older sister was Mamemitsu, who was publicly outed as a young duke's mistress. Well, the imperial family is infamously private – seeing their names splashed across all the gossip pages… let's just say both of their lives were made very difficult for a time. I remember seeing her at a party a few months after the scandal, when I was still a novice. She was smiling and talking with everyone else, but her eyes were visibly haggard. Everyone suspected that she was just deeply embarrassed, but now I wondered if something far more sinister had happened.

"At any rate, just make sure that 'lofty individual' isn't Kohito," he spat angrily. "A pompous needle like him with a girl like her… It'd be a crime against nature!"


	10. Chapter 10

_Fun fact: spending the weekend sick is not a fun activity. Apologies for the delay!_

_**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. The characters bear no intended resemblence to any persons, living or dead._

I must admit that I didn't quite know how to feel about Kazuhiro's words that day on the veranda. It was true that we were entering treacherous and unfamiliar territory by trying to align ourselves with the imperial family. But what choice did we have? Geisha do not get to choose their patrons, and we weren't exactly drowning in common businessmen with deep pockets like the old days. That day could be our chance of a lifetime to make connections that would place us among the very top _okiya_ in all Japan – if not, our futures would remain forever in doubt.

I'm sure a pretty, clever girl like Katsumiyo would eventually do well for herself, but Umeha would swiftly leave her far behind and Mameha would be ecstatic to win our game.

We both ended up spending the night at my _danna_'s estate, and were there to bid the Princes and Princess goodbye early the next morning. True to her father's word, now that the party was over Chikako was in heels and a cream-colored Western dress that accented her trim figure. For his part, Motohito-sama promised to swing by Gion and call on us the next time he found himself in Kyoto, but these royals were always so busy that I knew better than to set my heart on it.

As we arrived home, I was just telling Katsumiyo to take off the robe and hang it up to be sent back when Kohaku hurried to meet us in the doorway.

"You did it!" she cried, bouncing like an excited schoolgirl. "I'm not sure what you did, but you did it! Congratulations, Hatsu- er, Tsukishiro-san!"

I threw Kohaku a sharp look for almost using my old name, in public no less. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"The phone has been ringing off the hook since this morning for 'the girl in that wonderful kimono' and 'her elegant older sister'. You're both booked solid for the rest of the _hanami_ season!"

As we would discover later on, a fashionable gossip columnist in Tokyo had somehow gotten wind that Princess Chikako, a regular among such tabloids, was to attend a garden party at a newly-appointed trade minister's grand Kyoto mansion. Sensing a scoop, they managed to find a contact (I couldn't begin to guess whom) who told them all about our show-stealing kimono and the gorgeous young lady wearing it. I'm sure it must have been a very romantic picture for people in Tokyo: a _maiko_ wearing a one-of-a-kind kimono among the weeping cherry blossoms of Kyoto.

When the column ran that morning, suddenly every businessman, dignitary, and journalist coming to Kyoto wanted to see her in person. And, of course, they wanted her in the famous kimono of Hakone.

We rejoiced at our great good fortune, but had to prepare very quickly. Sakura was very kind to us by refusing to book any engagements until late into the afternoon, to give us lots of time to relax and get ready.

Kohaku hadn't been exaggerating in the slightest when she said we were booked solid. It felt like as soon as one engagement ended, we were running late to the next one. Most days, I couldn't afford to stay at any one engagement for longer than a few minutes. On a few occasions, I couldn't make it at all and had to send Kohaku in my place. And this was on top of normal _hanami_ engagements that had been set well in advance – honestly, those two weeks would've felt hopelessly busy even when I was Hatsumomo! At one point we noticed that the Hakone kimono had begun to dull and fray where the train dragged along the ground; it was an antique, after all, and never meant to be worn so often. From that point on, patrons had to pay a special fee and specifically request to see it, in order to pay the cost of having it carefully repaired.

Poor Katsumiyo was so unaccustomed to so many engagements at once that it was all she could do to not stagger in public on our way home! Unlucky for her, she was the main attraction and couldn't miss a single one. We thought engagements might drop just a little when we started charging extra to see the Hakone kimono, but even without the robe, people were curious to see the beauty who could upstage a princess. So we agreed to do her the kindness of hailing a rickshaw home every night until she could adjust. We could well afford it by this time.

Unfortunately it surprised no one when I awoke on one of the last mornings of the season with such a fever that a doctor had to be summoned. It wasn't simple exhaustion and lack of sleep this time; I'd managed to catch a terrible cold that had been going around and had to be quarantined on bed rest. Kohaku offered to cover the rest of my engagements so no one would think less of us for canceling.

It took everything I had not to throw something in frustration, and I'm sure Kohaku wasn't thrilled at seeing her workload doubled for the next few days, but it couldn't be helped. The mind was very willing, but time had caught up with the body too much. Everyone understood this.

* * *

Once the last of the blooms left the trees and the streets were swept clean of the thousands of petals, the tourists left Gion. However I can very happily say that Katsumiyo's newfound popularity proved to be much hardier than the cherry blossoms that inspired it. The number of engagements we all attended on a normal night nearly doubled, and we enjoyed many comfortably busy evenings.

We suggested using the extra funds to promote Akiko's nanny to live with us and care for the child full time, but Sakura refused. She still juggled managing the _okiya_ with caring for her daughter and seemed to prefer it that way. The strain was causing her to age well past her 29 years, but Sakura was nothing if not completely devoted to spending as much time with her child as possible.

"Akiko-chan's walking so well already," Sakura protested, "and I swear she'll start speaking in complete sentences at any minute. She'll already have to start going to the school in a couple of years – I couldn't bear to lose her already!"

Months passed. Tsuneyoshi-san had formally taken his seat at the Ministry of International Trade and now spent much of his time in Tokyo, with the result that I hadn't seen him since leaving his mansion in March. As I predicted, we entertained quite a few of the attendees of Tsuneyoshi's celebration party again, and a handful of them even became fond regulars. But we never heard a peep from any of the royals.

Things changed very unexpectedly one morning in early May.

Katsumiyo had just returned from school and was enjoying a cup of cold tea with me as she relayed her report for the day. A girl had been accused of breaking her friend's dancing fan, and both were loudly scolded and sent home for the resulting screaming match.

"That can only mean one thing…" I chuckled. "Wasn't there anything else you wanted to tell me? ….Katsumiyo?" She jumped as I placed my teacup on the table with a loud clack.

Normally very attentive and observant, since her big success Katsumiyo had formed a habit of withdrawing into her own mind during quiet moments, and would become flustered and embarrassed when corrected on it. By this point Katsumiyo was approaching 15, and heaven knows girls form all sorts of strange habits at that time of life. It didn't affect her performance during engagements yet, but was still worrisome.

"It's extremely rude to drift off in the middle of talking to someone, you know," I sniffed. "I certainly hope you won't behave like this at the Shinmori tonight! Now, why might this incident at school have happened?"

Katsumiyo rushed to bow and apologize. "It was because teacher announced that auditions for 'Dances of the Old Capital' begin tomorrow. Akiyashi-chan and Miyabi were planning on auditioning for the same role."

"And what about yourself, Katsumiyo-chan? What role are you auditioning for?"

"I'm…not sure yet. We're doing 'The Illiterate Storyteller' this year. It might be fun to audition as a _karasu_ retainer with Akiyashi and the others."

I frowned. It went without saying that Katsumiyo had grown into a fine dancer over the years. In fact, she could've given a much older Mameha a run for her money! This was beyond practice and beauty – Katsumiyo had a certain natural grace that made her perfect for Inoue-style dancing. She'd been in the chorus with the other novice apprentices last year, as was tradition, but now she was finally in a position to take a solo role.

A maid entered the dining room with this morning's mail. I'd planned to give her an earful as soon as she closed the door, but saw Kazuhiro's handwriting peeking out from the stack. Of course, I tore it open straightaway. It seemed that his ministry business in Tokyo ended a bit sooner than expected, as he had some free time and would be coming to Kyoto to view the dances. We also appeared to have made an impression on his family after all, since his cousins and even young Tsuruhito would be coming down as well.

"Things like this are exactly why you mustn't hesitate to promote yourself as much as possible," I lectured her after relaying the good news. "You're much too talented not to! I'll hear nothing about you languishing in the chorus, especially now."

"I completely agree, ma'am!" Katsumiyo bowed low to the mats, suddenly more alert than I'd seen her in days. "But…I've never done a solo role before! Which one should I audition for? Will I have enough time to practice?"

"Calm down! You've done recitals before. Not as many as I'd like, but you know it's no different than when you're practicing here in the _okiya_. Personally, I say it's even easier since you don't have to worry about some fool messing up and making you look bad."

That night Katsumiyo was the worst I'd ever seen her. Several stern warnings couldn't stop her from fidgeting restlessly during parties or giggling when a patron hadn't even told a joke. She missed multiple cues to pour a guest's drink or react to a story someone had been telling her. I had to finally pull her aside and give her a harsh talking to that I'd send her home if she kept embarrassing me!

I won't say that Katsumiyo was a natural-born geisha like myself, but she was certainly one of the more driven and hard-working girls in town. A simple war orphan from Tokyo, she knew better than anyone that she had no better prospects than being successful in the teahouses. And she hadn't shown any real interest in any other pursuits, as some girls do. So why on earth was she suddenly like leaves on a windy day?

The fight at school involving her friend turned out to be nothing more than a simple spat. However I'd heard of geisha doing _far_ worse things to each other during auditions than a broken fan! In my youth a girl I knew got banished for pushing another apprentice from her _okiya_ down the stairs, nearly killing her. Perhaps she'd been threatened somehow?

I made sure to ask her teachers if any particular rivalries had sprung up since auditions were announced.

"On the contrary!" the school's dance teacher, an energetic old woman, assured me. "Katsumiyo-chan is doing better in class than I've seen her in a long while! I'm sure the poor child was just struggling to keep up with her busy new life, eh Tsukishiro-san? She's certainly been more popular around here than any apprentice has for a long while. Perhaps she'd benefit from a short break to get her strength back."

"I commiserate with her struggles greatly, Sumire-sensei, but an apprentice can hardly afford to breathe outside of a teahouse I'm afraid. You never know when some other young jewel will snatch up everyone's attention next!"

"Oh, I'm sure it's just as you say. But between us," she leaned in with a playful tone, "the other judges were thrilled with her audition! In my personal estimation, she'll get her solo or else no one will! People won't stop talking about this one any time soon."

Sensei's assurances came to pass a week later. Not only did she get a solo, but sensei pulled me aside to congratulate me on her being given the lead! After we gave her the good news, Katsumiyo finally regained her focus…and promptly channeled every ounce of it into rehearsals. She went from being withdrawn at parties to carefully following every word, just waiting for the perfect opening to bring up the subject and get someone to ask her to perform.

I was much happier with this new development, as it gave me a chance to mention her new role and invite anyone who cared to listen to attend. But it was still exceedingly odd for her. I eventually realized that she wasn't intentionally showing off – she'd simply figured out a little trick to practice even when at engagements!

One night while walking to an engagement with Kohaku, I brought up my concerns with her odd behavior these past months.

"Tsukishiro-san, weren't you a young girl once?" Kohaku laughed, a bit tipsy from the last party.

"Do you mean to insinuate I'm not still?"

"There's only one answer that you haven't thought of yet. If a girl her age is restless and dreamy, isn't it always about a boy?"

My blood froze. I stopped cold dead in my tracks.

You'll recall my former sister Hatsuoki, and how her career was destroyed by a pernicious rumor that she'd been caught sleeping with a young man in an alley – a rumor concocted and spread by me, as a jealous young apprentice. I'm sure you'll also recall that the strain and embarrassment it caused nearly ended Tomihatsu's career early as well. Like a vengeful wraith, I could see the same scenario playing out before me, only with myself in Tomihatsu's unfortunate shoes. Hadn't I paid that debt? Wasn't karma done with me yet?

"I don't mean it like that!" Kohaku insisted, seeing my clearly horrified reaction. By this point, they'd both heard the story, although I'd left out the burden of guilt I bore. "I hear apprentices giggle all the time about that handsome boy who works at the _takoyaki_ stand by the Minamiza. She's probably developed a little spring infatuation on him, if it isn't something else."

"Isn't that bad enough?!" I choked. Like a chorus line of my past misdeeds, now I had to be reminded of Koichi, the noodle chef I'd had an affair with behind Mother's back! I was nineteen when that happened, not so much older than Katsumiyo was now.

"…It's a crush, Tsukishiro-san," Kohaku said quietly, something akin to sadness in her voice. "We geisha already get so few chances to love like normal women. Can you really begrudge her a romantic fantasy?"

"…Romance is dangerous for geisha. For a reckless apprentice, even more so."

"Katsumiyo-chan is no fool. You may not see it, Tsukishiro-san, but I do. She's just as attached to being a geisha as either of us. I can see that she's especially proud of her dancing. Do you really think she'd give all that up to run after some hapless young man?"

I sighed. We began to walk again, yellow light pooling at our feet from latticed windows.

"We do all sorts of stupid things when we're in love, Kohaku-san."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer**: This is a derivative work of fiction. The characters and events depicted are not intended to represent any factual persons, living or dead._

* * *

I'd like to admit something to you all that I still find very embarrassing - at this point in the course of events, it still had not crossed my mind that Katsumiyo's infatuation might have been Prince Tsuruhito. I'd paid him so little attention at the garden party that I must admit that I hardly remembered him at all! And as Katsumiyo had slyly never mentioned a word about him or the long walk they shared in Kazuhiro-sama's garden, naturally I never put the pieces together until the truth was staring me plain in the face.

That happened 2 weeks after my alarming talk with Kohaku, when the Dances finally commenced. I had a great many things I wanted to ask my apprentice, but knew better than to think for a moment that she'd honestly give me a truthful answer. It's such a sensitive topic, you know. Goodness knows I certainly wouldn't in her shoes!

Besides, I had my own engagements to go to and my own solo role to rehearse for. What's more, my role was in the headlining show, so dress rehearsals took up nearly all of my free time. The apprentice's stage performance may have been smaller but, being the lead, Katsumiyo's schedule was hardly any different from my own. We were both very glad when rehearsals wrapped and opening day was announced for later that week.

"_Danna_-sama's car should be arriving with the others this evening," I announced, reading another note of his at breakfast early that morning. Like every other dancer, we ate a light meal of thin broth and ginger rice before performances.

"Will we be entertaining the princes again, ma'am?" Katsumiyo asked in an unusually breezy tone.

"I wouldn't bet on it. Men like them always have to pay respects to someone or other when they visit a town. They might even spend the whole day in Osaka. But once they do, I'll be sure to find a way for us to entertain them privately."

"Then I'll be sure to follow you two around like shadows if that's how it is!" Kohaku joked.

The Dances of the Old Capital formerly opened hours later. The theme that year was "The Illiterate Traveler" – each play was to be an adaptation of the stories of Hirata Atsutane, a traveling storyteller from a century ago. Three short musicals would be performed first, done mostly by apprentices and lesser geisha. The finale was to be the headliner.

Katsumiyo's play, The Mountain Swordsman, was the first performance of the day. All the various dressers and wigmakers had finished with the apprentices and were moving on to the adult geisha while a man in traditional court garb addressed the audience. As always, a group of young apprentices were huddled around the very edge of the curtain to peer nervously at the audience.

I was waiting for my turn to use the makeup stand when I realized I could no longer hear the orchestra over the girl's gasps and excited whispers. I went over to admonish them for being too loud, but realized I couldn't hear the music because it wasn't playing at all. I shooed them away to look for myself what happened and nearly gasped myself.

Against my predictions, Kazuhiro and his entire party were there to watch the opening show! They'd arrived late, however, and the entire orchestra and audience were obliged to stop and bow in respect. A theater official was running up and down the front row, frantically trying to convince other patrons to give up their seats to the Imperial family.

Of course, news of the new arrivals ripped through backstage like wildfire. We were used to all manner of lofty officials coming to see us, but rarely anyone in the Imperial family. And certainly not on such sudden notice!

In all my years of in Gion, I'd never seen anything like it. Fully grown geisha were panicking like schoolgirls, nervously touching and re-checking their costumes even if they wouldn't be on stage for hours. Dressers and wigmakers were suddenly flagging down apprentices, determined to make sure the costumes were absolutely perfect. The apprentices themselves were suddenly thrown into a tailspin of emotions – one poor creature finally became so nervous that she simply burst into tears, causing her older sister to berate her for ruining her makeup!

Katsumiyo had been among the first group of apprentices by the stage. She was still there watching the procession with a radiant expression. Foolishly, I began to feel pride that she was the sole girl that was excited, rather than scared of proving herself. I let my eyes flick back to the audience and it was only then that I saw him – he'd been trailing dutifully behind his father, but taking his now-empty seat was Prince Tsuruhito.

I looked again at Katsumiyo's transfixed gaze, completely, blissfully ignorant of the chaos erupting behind her, and it all finally came together.

"Shouldn't you be rehearsing?" I snapped. She nearly jumped a foot in the air; suddenly entirely _too_ self-conscious, she flushed so strongly it managed to be visible beneath her thick stage makeup. "They're finishing up," I added much more gently. Shock had made me forget myself for a moment. "Your cue will be here before long."

"I…I'm suddenly nervous…" she murmured, refusing to look me in the eye. "What if I f-forget myself and make a mistake..?"

"'Forgetting yourself' is for lazy girls who don't practice. And I daresay you've done nothing but practice since you landed this role! Clear your mind and your body will do the rest. The only advice I could possibly give you now is to do your best inhabit the role. You're an imperious _daitengu_ lord – make yourself believe it."

"I don't think I can do that!"

"Of course not. You're only an apprentice and this is your first solo role! Just something to keep in mind, now and in the future." I gave her a look and she excused herself.

In truth I was inhabiting my own role right then, pretending I'd noticed nothing. I couldn't afford to confront her, not when there were still so many questions and frustrating possibilities. So far I only knew two things: that Katsumiyo really _was_ infatuated with a boy; and that boy was Tsuruhito, one of the princes of the Chrysanthemum Throne. What I was missing was the part that truly frightened me – did the young prince return her feelings? If not, then I could breathe a huge sigh of relief and let her continue to hold her girlish feelings in her breast. But if he did, if there existed even a slight possibility of a genuine romance between them….well.

To call such a situation "complicated" would be the understatement of the year.

It took several minutes for things to get back on track. The orchestra cut to silence which the first group's cue to take their place. After a few low notes, a group of junior apprentices in brown and gold trailed out, supposedly symbolizing sunrise on a desolate, unforgiving mountain.

"The Mountain Swordsman" had two leads – Katsumiyo, who would be dancing as the _tengu_ king; and another apprentice who would be playing Torakichi, the young boy who managed to win a bet against the demon lord and learn the _tengu_'s otherworldly swordsmanship. Katsumiyo looked rather stunning in her kimono of black and crimson, with glittering gold accents. She wielded a large sliver-gray dancing fan, meant to represent the demon's ever-present magic sword. The effect was only deepened by her costar wearing an understated robe of blues and browns, being only a poor (but clever) traveler.

It's a rather interesting story, and I would've liked very much to watch my apprentice's very first lead role in person. But I'd received a very big shock and needed to recollect my wits before my own performance, as you could imagine. I honestly don't even remember much about my performance. I couldn't think about anything, or else my mind would immediately revert back its incessant puzzling.

I was extremely relieved when my role finally ended and I was free to retreat backstage for the remainder of the play.

"_Otsukaresama_!" Kohaku was the first to meet me backstage with the customary greeting. "You worked hard. Although you seemed a bit more mechanical than at rehearsal… Kazuhiro-sama's sudden arrival must have come as a shock."

"That would be true for everyone here, as well, Kohaku-san," I gave a wan smile. "Although I suppose you're here to make good on your promise."

"I certainly am! If Tsukishiro's _danna_ permits me, of course."

"Think nothing of the sort – I'll make sure he does! Truth be told, I think we'll need someone loud and fun to help shake things up. Goodness knows I'm too tired, and Kohito-dono is a tough crowd."

"You mean the thin one who looks like a judge?" Kohaku correctly guessed. "Leave it to me. The too-serious ones are my specialty."

The last strains of music faded and the audience applauded the main dancers. A few moments later the rest of the adult geisha trailed out to take our final bow for the evening, kneeling low to the floor, followed by the apprentices still in costume. Every recital is then followed by a flurry of activity as everyone is eager to get out of costume. This process can be almost as exhausting as getting into costume in the first place, as wigs and elaborate robes have to be removed and stored just so. Dressers are in short supply as everyone is eager to run off and unwind a bit before their first engagements.

Unfortunately for the geisha of the Sanri _okiya_, our first engagement was to begin immediately – within moments, an attendant arrived at the dressing room with a message that Kazuhiro Tsuneyoshi wanted my company as soon as I was done. Predictably, more than a few bitter, envious glances shot my way as I left the dressing room.

The aide led me to a quiet side entrance, where the theater director was attempting to make himself as obsequious as possible to the group.

"Oh Tsukishiro-san! Thank _goodness_," Kazuhiro called, visibly exasperated. "I must excuse myself, my good man. We can't talk freely in front of the ladies, of course."

"Am I always your go-to excuse to get away from people?" I smiled as soon as the director was out of earshot.

"Only when they're as annoying as that one…" he grumbled. "I don't see how you put up with that persistent fool!"

"He's usually much too important to speak to anyone else. But it serves you right, kicking up such a fuss! You do know how to make a showy entrance, Kazuhiro-san."

"Blame that idiot judge. We drive all the way to Nara to greet him, and do you know what his wife says? He'd gotten the days mixed up and went to court anyway! Well we certainly weren't going to wait for him; I told my driver to step on it and only just made the show."

"Well we're certainly glad you did. If it pleases Your Excellencies, my two sisters and myself would like to thank you for patronizing our show. Katsumiyo in particular, as it was her solo debut."

"As luck would have it, we were coming to ask you the same," Motohito stepped forward. "We seem to have a free evening ahead of us and wanted to congratulate you on a stunning performance. I'm actually glad we were stood up by Judge Hatsutake! But I wasn't aware you had another, ah, 'sister'?"

"Kohaku-san isn't really my sister by birth, of course. It's just a name we geisha give to those who share a common ancestor, so to speak. I apprenticed under the great Tomihatsu, as did Kohaku's older sister. By rights, we are all here because of that great lady."

"Then I'd be extremely grateful to that lady if we could all be on our way," Kazuhiro harrumphed. "I think the idiot is coming back…"

I went to go fetch the others where they were hiding in the hallway, waiting to be formally introduced. Katsumiyo and I rode in the first car as it led the way to the Ichiriki, the only teahouse accustomed to royal visitors, while Kohaku was obliged to ride with the princes alone. As a testament to her skill, despite never meeting any of them before, by the time we all arrived she was chatting to all of them like old friends. True to her word, even Kohito was visibly having trouble being his usual severe, pompous self.

They'd called ahead and already reserved a large private room overlooking the ancient garden for our little group. Thanks to Kohaku, the tone was softening into an informal drinking party. I know she liked things a little boisterous, but not even the most interesting conversationalist could penetrate their years of strict training on comportment. Eventually we just settled into a mood of jovial conversation and free-flowing sake, the best I'm sure the house had to offer.

Tsuruhito was seated next to Kazuhiro, to whom I began to notice he was understandably more attached to than his uncle. I made sure Katsumiyo spent the entirety of the party at the other end of the table, entertaining Motohito. Whenever his cup ran empty, I made sure either Kohaku or myself was the one to fill it, never her.

If Katsumiyo was aware that this treatment was intentional, she knew better than to show it. But unluckily for her, she wasn't very good at hiding _all_ of her emotions yet. Whenever the young prince spoke or set down his cup, she couldn't help immediately focusing all her attention on him for a second. During the few times he laughed, she even let her eyes drift toward his for a second, even though it broke protocol.

This would have been much more frequent, if it weren't for the fact that he could hardly stop stealing glances at her long enough to pay attention to what Kohaku was saying. After what could only have been too many cups of strong sake, she decided to tease him for it.

"Really, Tsuruhito-dono," she interrupted herself, "if you keep staring the poor girl like that, you'll wear a hole in her robe!"

Everyone laughed as the two of them blushed right down to their necks! It was just innocent play, but I felt obliged to save them before anyone realized there was a grain of truth to it.

"_Ara_, please ignore her, Excellencies. Kohaku-san's had love on the brain, recently! I'm starting to wonder if she isn't harboring some secret feeling herself."

"She sounds like them, then!" Motohito continued, apparently meaning the prince and his daughter, Princess Chikako. "I've never seen anyone more obsessed with those Western films, and they all seem to be romances! The court handlers are terrified Chikako is going to run off with some dashing, blue-eyed foreigner."

"Well, if your highness describes him like that!" Kohaku teased. "I had the occasion to see a few of those films myself, and if Clark Gable happened to walk into Gion one day… Well then!"

Everyone laughed at her joke (except Kohito, who never seemed to openly laugh at anything). While everyone was preoccupied, the two youths, who must have been inexpressibly relieved that no one was paying attention to them anymore, exchanged a silent, lingering look. Rather than being full of meaning, like two clandestine lovers who planned to meet up later, it was a glance full of simmering emotions and inexpressible shyness.

It was the very definition of young, infatuated romance.

And that was how I discovered the prince's feelings without ever having to bring it up. It's easy to covet something that's in front of your eyes, but seeing them hang all over each other despite never once being permitted to meet… Well, it was now so obvious that even the others noticed it!

Thankfully, only I was the one who knew that their attraction was mutual. I needed to keep things under our – specifically _**my**_ – control as much as possible. The royal society had their own ways of dealing with things like this, and it was to ensure that everything ended to their benefit. Worst case, they'd decide we were a risk to the Imperial family's fragile reputation and have us dealt with like Mamemitsu.

However, she had proved much too big a star for them to destroy outright – I couldn't safely say the same for us.

The party lasted several good hours before they were forced to bring things to a close. Kazuhiro left to settle the account with the mistress while an aide rushed in to help Kohito stagger his way to the car, still trying to maintain his upright dignity. Motohito-dono wasn't much better off, and his son was obliged to merely give all of us a polite bow before helping him down the hall.

Kohaku and Katsumiyo made a move towards the door themselves, as it was quite late and we had other engagements to get to, but I held them back.

"Kohaku-san, please go on ahead and let Sakura-san know what happened. We'll catch up to you on the way."

Kohaku gave us a strange look but left anyway. The maids would be rushing in shortly to clean up, so I steered Katsumiyo down the hall to a much smaller private room that wasn't in use. The walls glowed yellow in the light of an incandescent bulb above a small square table of dark wood. It was a room that could seat maybe three or four people, usually reserved for when a man wanted to throw geisha parties for himself, which was very uncommon in those days. We almost certainly wouldn't be interrupted here.

My apprentice chose one side and sat, visibly uncomfortable. I couldn't say I was much happier.

"I brought you here instead of waiting until we returned home because I don't want anyone to overhear us," I began solemnly, "not even our own maids. Nothing spoken here can leave this room without my express permission. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am, but...have I done something wrong? I didn't behave improperly, did I?"

"Katsumiyo, neither of us are fools," I sighed. "It's high time we had an honest chat about your feelings for Prince Tsuruhito."

Hearing her feelings spelled out before her for the first time, of course the poor girl blushed and began sputtering all sorts of denials.

"You aren't fooling anyone, Katsumiyo, much less me. We've all been where you are and I'm going to give you the same warning all apprentices must hear at some point – _geisha are not meant to love_. We may spend time with men and flirt with them, but we are merely providing a fantasy. It's how we survive in this world where we find ourselves alone. And that fantasy becomes much harder to maintain if we really do harbor passionate feelings. As for chasing those feelings…well, I can hardly think of a faster way for a young apprentice to destroy herself! What hope in this world would she have then, other than a long, difficult life as someone's maid?"

I let my words weigh down on us in silence, Katsumiyo visibly upset at hearing what she must have known all along.

"I'm afraid I cannot let your actions continue….is what I would say. However, you seem to have gotten the both of us embroiled in a very complex situation! The prince seems to harbor feelings for you as well."

"What do you mean?" Katsumiyo asked, hope radiating from every pore of her body.

"If you were wiser, you'd be more cautious than happy," I shook my head sternly. "Tsuruhito isn't the Crown Prince, thank goodness, but he's still a prince. The Emperor's own nephew, in fact! If he decides to seriously pursue you, he can most certainly have you, whether you share his feelings or not. In this way, I suppose it's fortunate that you do – it'll make your job easier."

"What is my job? Isn't it to be a geisha?"

"Yes, child, but the true worth of a geisha lies in the kind of _danna_ she attracts. Even you'll recall how our lives changed when Kazuhiro-san became mine. A high-profile _danna_ can open doors that a hundred engagements could not. And things don't get much more high-profile than this! You and Tsuruhito are both still children – if you successfully hold his attention until he becomes a proper adult, then he'll be in a position to become your _danna_. I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up buying your independence then! **That** is the ultimate goal of every geisha: to pay off her debts and live as she chooses."

I'd be a terrible liar if I said that my reasoning for this was totally unselfish. My bet with Mameha still stood, and Umeha was still popular as ever. The royal family were our only large patrons, and thus my only hope of winning our wager. If Katsumiyo could call the prince her _danna_ then Umeha would have to seduce the Emperor himself to beat that!

As little as I wanted to involve either of us in the trials of court life, Tsuruhito was simply too big a fish to let slip by.

After making her swear again that nothing of this plan would slip between her lips, we prepared to run off to our next engagement, to which we were already running late.

"And another thing: don't be surprised if your little friends are cold to you tomorrow when you return to the theater."

"What? Why?!"

"Are you kidding? Everyone saw us leave with Their Highnesses. If you want the prince to be your _danna_, I suggest you get used to making other girls sick with envy!"

* * *

"The Illiterate Traveler" is something I made up, but it's based on a very real collection of stories that heavily influenced Japanese folklore. For more on tengu: /daitengu/


	12. Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. The characters depicted are not intended to represent any living persons or figures, living or dead._

* * *

We entertained their group once more during that time, when "Dances of the Old Capital" ended and Kazuhiro treated the three of us to another visit to his mansion. Cherry blossom season long over, the view of his garden was less romantic this time but no less charming. It was during this party that Prince Motohito mentioned that his daughter had been rather peeved at hearing herself being negatively compared with "the lovely young geisha in the famous kimono".

I made it a point to pull Katsumiyo aside and bid her to send the princess an apology letter the moment she got home. Anyone could see that Chikako was an intensely proud creature, as I explained. She could either be a great ally in our quest to charm her brother, or a terrifying enemy.

They left for Tokyo the next morning, carrying Katsumiyo's letter and a packet of the most refined leaves we could find, as Katsumiyo managed to pry out of the young prince that his sister had a preference for Japanese tea.

Weeks passed into months, and life settled back into its normal rhythm. The other apprentices eventually forgot their jealousy and stopped snubbing us whenever they could, something that I could see Katsumiyo was extremely happy about. I didn't have the heart to warn her that it would only happen again over some other thing.

Women's friendships in Gion are such a fickle thing, you know.

Eventually summer came to a close without hearing a word from any of them, until I read in the paper that the International Trade Ministry (of which Kazuhiro-san was a member) had just closed a big deal with American and British suppliers. I knew that we'd be hearing from him again before long.

As expected, his letter arrived less than a week later, just as we finished changing our wardrobes for the coming autumn. They were holding a party to celebrate, and those with geisha mistresses were inviting theirs to serve as entertainers for the event. My apprentice wasn't named on the invite, but we both knew I would certainly be dragging her along.

It took quite a rearranging of schedules but we managed to secure two days off to make the trip to Tokyo.

I must admit that I did feel a few emotions during that train ride. As you'll undoubtedly remember, I'd made a similar journey under far worse circumstances nearly 10 years ago then. It felt like I was surrounded by ghosts, watching the exact same scenery pass me by. But just as my fortunes had changed dramatically, so had the world around me – the bombed, burnt out buildings and towns had since been rebuilt, or simply leveled away into peaceful valleys.

Katsumiyo-chan sat next to me, pretending to read with a faraway look reflecting clearly in her dark eyes. I'm sure she must have had her own bad memories to ruminate on, as it was now nearly 5 years since she'd left Tokyo, where she lost her parents and lived as a dirty, friendless orphan. And there we both were, riding in first class while wrapped in priceless silk kimono: I, the mistress of an increasingly powerful minister; and Katsumiyo facing the possibility of being the lover of a prince of Japan.

Life seemed so strangely fickle in that moment I almost had the urge to laugh.

But the surprises didn't stop there. The Tokyo we arrived in was very different from the city we'd left all those years ago.

Tokyo Station, for one, had successfully repaired itself into its former glory. There was still scaffolding about, hinting that the restoration wasn't totally complete, but at the very least the roof was once again intact. The marble floors were polished to the point where you could see your reflection, and a great bronze clock stood proudly gleaming in the middle of the crowds. I'd always fancied Kyoto to be a big, important city, but the sheer amount of people rushing to and fro made even Osaka look almost sleepy!

A man off to the side of the platform holding a sign stepped forward and introduced himself as one of my _danna_'s employees. He led the way outside, where things only got worse. I could hardly see his car on the street through all the people! And I couldn't help feeling shocked to see a whole line of similar long, black vehicles with white tires parked on the street. Somehow the driver seemed to know right where his was, and helped us inside before stepping away to direct the porters with our luggage.

The driver was kind enough to give us a short tour of the city on our way to the hotel, taking us through streets lined with an impossible number of neon signs (still uncommon in Kyoto), hawkers on every corner, and the ever-present crush of people. Many of the buildings that had been bombed during the war had simply been leveled and were now construction sites, preparing to host whatever was to come next. I can't say whether things felt more hopeful than I'd left, but they certainly felt busier, and the people had lost that ever-present cloud of misery and hardship that had followed them during the war.

Apparently people in Tokyo preferred to wash away their troubles by being industrious.

Eventually we drove past the street where the orphanage in which we'd met in had stood. I expected Katsumiyo to at least glance in interest at what became of her old home, but she simply stared resolutely ahead. I did the same when we drove past the Roppongi bar in which I'd spent so many years as a prostitute.

A building the driver pointed out of particular interest was a large square of land right in the center of Shibuya, where a popular clothing store had once stood. Apparently it was going to be the site of something called a "mall", where many stores would inhabit one grand tower.

It was all very interesting, but I nearly sighed with relief when we finally arrived at the hotel.

"This is for you." He handed us both an envelope that I could feel at once had quite a sum of money in them. "Courtesy of Minister Tsuneyoshi. He warned that you don't have a charge account with anyone in town and suspected that you wouldn't be carrying money. He sends his regards and asks that you spend it however you wish. I'll be waiting here to drive you wherever you like."

We thanked him for his time, but in truth we had no interest in shopping. Our day had been exhausting enough already, and the party wasn't for hours yet! I'm afraid we did little more than sleep and enjoy a lovely meal in the hotel restaurant, before returning to our room to prepare for the evening.

The party took place, oddly enough, in a wing of the Diet building itself. If you've never seen the Tokyo Diet building, imagine a series of white boxes stacked peculiarly on top of one another. The inside was as unimaginative as you'd expect from the seat of Japanese beauracracy. Two guards stood before a pair of large wooden doors that opened into large room with wall-to-wall carpet, which I'd never seen before. Kazuhiro-san was the one who found me first.

"Tsukishiro-san! You're later than usual! Was the view of Tokyo really that fascinating?"

"If you want someone to blame, Kazuhiro-sama, blame all these drivers in Tokyo! It feels like everyone in town has a vehicle and simply had to drive it right this moment." I hadn't told him that I'd lived in Tokyo during the war, as it might lead to some uncomfortable questions later.

"Ah, but you would've avoided traffic if you'd left sooner. I'd wager you're the last of your geisha friends to arrive. I've had to deal with Aoki-san flaunting his friend Mameha in my face all evening."

I was genuinely surprised to hear Mameha's name come up, and couldn't stop myself from immediately searching the room until I'd found her. She was wearing a lovely kimono of the setting sun in reds and violets with an obi of moss green, laughing peacefully with a bearded old man in a coat and tails. By her side stood an apprentice in a similarly lovely robe of orange autumn leaves, who could only be Umeha.

It seems like when you have such a strong _en_ with someone, you ought to be able to feel their presence before anyone else's. Perhaps that only works for lovers.

"Goodness… I didn't take you for the type to covet other men's mistresses, Kazuhiro-san!" I joked, trying to hide my shock.

"Oh, think nothing of the sort. That Aoki is too cheap to afford a woman like that," he waved, taking another slug of his drink. "Come, I'll introduce you."

We made our way over to the group slowly, stopping here or there to say a word to someone. When we finally walked up to the trio I couldn't help but feel a wide, familiar smile slide over my face.

"Minister Aoki! I couldn't let you and the great Mameha-san leave today without introducing you to our late arrivals. These fine things are Tsukishiro and her younger sister Katsumiyo. Since you're all from Gion, I'm assuming you two must have met?"

"Oh, Mameha-san and I are very well-acquainted," I purred. Now it was Mameha's turn to be blindsided, quickly trying to stifle her shock and dismay at seeing me at such a private, elite event. "Although, you must forgive me for being less familiar with your younger sister. Umeha, was it?"

"Yes, ma'am," she bowed, before Mameha could think to stop her. "Katsumiyo-chan and I danced together at the _Dances of the Old Capital_ this year."

"Really? I hardly remember."

"Well, memory is a tricky thing once age _sinks its teeth_ into someone," Mameha choked, hardly bringing herself to look at me. "And it isn't likely you would remember, as our apprentices have never entertained together."

"You're right! Well, we shouldn't waste this opportunity. Perhaps they should make the rounds together. Wouldn't want to bore the poor things chattering about the old days as adults do!"

Mameha looked as if she was about to veto that suggestion with great force when her patron interrupted.

"Not a bad idea, Tsukishiro-san. It almost feels wrong to hog these two lovely birds all to ourselves, and Heaven knows you geisha are busy enough. Between the two of us," he leaned in close enough that I could smell the scotch on his breath, "many of these poor fools have never been to Gion once. And you can't call yourself a man of refinement if you've never enjoyed the company of a genuine Kyoto geisha!"

"Cheers to that!" Kazuhiro laughed, beginning to look a little over-sauced himself.

"Well, then Katsumiyo is certainly the _maiko_ to convert them! And I'm sure Umeha will be of help, as well. Run along you two!"

The two girls merely glanced at each other but were obliged to bow and excuse themselves, me beaming while Mameha looked on with a barely-concealed stormy expression. Her sour mood didn't relent as the conversation resumed while I served (watered down) drinks, until finally Kazuhiro asked to be escorted to the bathroom.

Of course I had no earthly clue where the bathroom was in that place, but was expected to walk with him simply to be polite. It was while I was kneeling in the great, dimly lit hallway that I heard the telltale sounds of a geisha walking and saw Mameha storming down the corridor after us.

"Mameha-san! Did you leave poor Minister Aoki alone? If you needed to use the restroom yoursel-"

"Stop it," she hissed the moment she got within three paces. "I don't know how you got here or why, but you will keep your nasty tricks to yourself and leave my apprentice out of your games!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of poor memory, don't you remember? I'm here on behest of my own _danna_. And of course it's only natural that I bring my dear apprentice with me. If anything, it's a wonder that _you're_ here, seeing as how you don't have one."

"Some of us have _friends_, Hatsumomo."

"At any rate, I have my own plans for how to win our little bet and none of them include ruining yours. Pinky promise!"

"Forgive me for being skeptical when a snake says it has no interest in mice," Mameha sniffed and merely walked away.

We returned to the party a few minutes later. Standing in the doorway, waiting for my _danna_ to enter first, I spied little Umeha chatting it up with one of the younger men at the party while Mameha had returned to the drunken old man's side.

I hadn't laid eyes on her since her debut a year ago, and was admittedly stunned that the gangly little farm girl I'd seen serving tea in Nitta-san's _okiya_ was now the excessively elegant and lovely young woman before me. For a moment she seemed the reincarnation of Mameha's child self, oozing a rarified grace well beyond that of her fourteen years. The mere fact that such mature refinement was coming from this childish nymph made it all the more alluring.

It was extremely little wonder that she'd taken the world of apprentices by storm from the moment she debuted. The man she was currently devoting her attention to seemed well charmed by her, after all.

It was right then that I noticed Mameha quietly supervising the whole exchange, while her host was too drunk to notice. Of course one must monitor their apprentice to make sure she's behaving properly, but that hardly seemed a valid concern regarding one of the top apprentices in Gion!

A notion began to enter my head.

"Kazuhiro-sama, I beg you to enlighten me – who is that man that seems completely besotted with little Umeha-chan over there? They almost seem like lovers!"

"Then he's a very lucky man, whoever he is," Kazuhiro chuckled, still quite drunk. Even so, he peered at them though his bleary eyes. "Oh that looks like Fujisaki-san. He's the heir to some company or other in town, damned if I know 'em all…"

"An heir? I thought this was a private party for ministry officials only."

"Officials and anyone we have to suck up to, of course," he belched, reaching for his glass that I now filled with almost exclusively water. "He's gotten it into his mind to pick up venture investing. A fool's way to waste money, if you ask me, but it's his fortune. Says he wants to finance some foreign companies looking to expand into Japan."

Kazuhiro, like many of us who remembered the grisly days of the Depression, looked dimly on investing and preferred to hoard his money. But even I could see that, if even one of his investments worked out well, Fujisaki-san would end up adding to his fortune considerably! Goodness knows there was enough industry to go around in those days.

All the pieces began to fit together: Mameha must have been intending this Fujisaki-san to be Umeha's _danna_. She could certainly do worse for her first _danna_ than a wealthy young capitalist with powerful friends. And younger men were certainly freer with their money and favors. But their tastes were much more fickle than an older man's, and were prone to drop mistresses just as quickly as they picked them up. However, the terms of the bet said nothing about how long the relationship lasted – it was simply that her apprentice's _danna_ had to outrank mine, in both society and wealth.

Perhaps it was because she goaded me with that little exchange in the hallway. Perhaps it was simply because Mameha and I existing in the same room was enough to cloud my judgment.

But in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to dash Mameha's hopes right before her eyes.

I gently excused myself for a moment and pulled Katsumiyo aside from listening to two men telling a saucy story to a group of other geisha.

"Katsumiyo-chan, do you see that man over there?" I pointed to Fujisaki-san.

"Yes, ma'am. But…who is he?"

"Well that's your job to figure out! I want to see him eating out of your hand if it takes you all night. Consider it a test of skill."

Having given marching orders to my mystified apprentice, I returned to Kazuhiro's side and sat back to watch the show.

The moment Katsumiyo began to approach the pair, Mameha's perfect face immediately frowned. Her eyes flicked to where I was standing – I waved back, a luminous smile on my face. She immediately flushed with rage, but had to stand her ground. What else could she do, rush over and snatch him from a simple apprentice like a jealous housewife?

It took her a few minutes to intercept the conversation but, once she had his attention, the genius of Katsumiyo's natural talent and charm began to do its work. Where Umeha was cultivated to be a poised doll, Katsumiyo had a lively grace and expressive eyes that captivated your attention. She was talkative, animated, and possessed a cheeky humor that she must have gotten from Kohaku. At various points, one could see her gauge her audience's reaction and alter her performance accordingly – maybe being a little more of a giggly schoolgirl here, or softening her reactions there.

The amazing thing was, very little of it were things that I taught her. I'd covered the basics, of course, and guided her in all the proper directions to be a respectable geisha. But in the teahouses Katsumiyo proved to be a natural performer who needed very little teaching on how to make people (particularly men) fall for her charms.

I could tell that Mameha worked very hard on cultivating Umeha into her current form – Katsumiyo was simply born into it.

The result was that, in less than an hour, poor little Umeha could only stand there, clearly frustrated and all but completely forgotten! I'm sure you could picture the raw fury on Mameha's face, threatening to boil over in front of everyone.

I could've rescued them any time from my apprentice's show of superior skill…but decided not to. I left Umeha to try and win her suitor back for the rest of the evening.

It was nearing midnight when the party finally started to wind down. A bit early for a night's work but many of these ministers were rather old men who'd been drinking since the late afternoon, you see – more than one of them had to be carried into their cars by huffing, sleep-deprived attendants. Kazuhiro was on the verge of becoming one of them. He'd realized my trick with the water and refused to drink anything I gave him unless he saw me pour it straight from the bottle. I was forced to resort instead to telling him jokes and stories, to try to distract him from drinking. It was only somewhat successful. The original plan was to spend the night in the hotel, but he was much too drunk by then. A friend had to intervene and helped convinced him to order his driver to go straight home, where his maids would take care of him.

Katsumiyo and I remained in a bow as his vehicle trundled down the avenue, as was custom, when I heard the sound of Mameha's footsteps behind me. I thought for a moment that she would confront me again, but she simply stood in the light of the streetlamps, waiting for Aoki-san's driver to finish dropping him off and come back for her and Umeha.

He must have been close by, as the trip only took a few minutes.

"Goodbye, Mameha-san," I couldn't help smiling. "We really must entertain together more often!"

"I've had quite enough of you, Hatsumomo," she muttered tersely, without even turning around.

"Who?"

"Pretend all you like," Mameha huffed, shooing her apprentice into the car. "I knew better than to think you'd ever change. You're the same evil creature as ever."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Disclaimer** \- This is a work of fiction. Resemblance to true events, or any persons living or dead, is coincidental._

* * *

A maid from Kazuhiro's house sent a message early the next morning that he was "indisposed" (too hungover to move) and wouldn't be needing our services for the day. We were free to return to Kyoto anytime. A lucky break, as I had someone I'd much rather see right then – we dressed early and phoned the driver to take us to Fujiko-san's house in Aoyama.

I always made it a point to visit her whenever an engagement brought me less than a day's ride to Tokyo, usually carrying a package of bean jelly snacks from a Gion confectioner that she was fond of. Sakura understood and made sure to leave aside at least a few hours to pop in before returning, as I'd told them about how instrumental to my return she'd been.

We found the old fortuneteller already awake (she always kept early hours), sweeping leaves off of the cobblestones leading to her entryway in a dark green _yukata_.

"Who is this now?" she called out, seeing us disembark from the car. "If you're here for a reading, I don't open for another hour."

"Fujiko-san, have you forgotten us already? I know we phoned ahead to let you know we'd be in town!"

"Be that as it may, you should be more respectful of a business's operating hours." Despite saying this, she placed the broom against the door frame and led the way inside.

Fujiko-san hadn't laid eyes on Katsumiyo since she was still Yui, so she spent a long while fussing over how much she'd grown and making her model her apprentice robes. We spent a lovely time sipping _hojicha_ and chatting about the news, goings on in Gion and Akasaka, updating her on Sakura, Kohaku, and little Akiko. I'd never known any form of a grandmother as a girl, but I assume that these visits must have been very similar.

After a time, Fujiko-glanced at her clock.

"Katsumiyo-chan, be a dear and go water the hydrangeas out back. It's just occurred to me that I'd forgotten to, and now my hips won't cooperate with me getting up! You'll find the pot by back door, it's already filled."

This was a strange request to make of a house guest; an apprentice, no less. But once we heard the door safely shut behind her, Fujiko fixed her stern eye on me and frowned. Suddenly I understood – I was in trouble somehow.

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"Fujiko-san, I hardly know what to make of such a question! What on earth are you referring to?"

"You can't fool me! I recognized that look in your eye the moment you arrived – it looked entirely too much like a young Hatsumomo. You've been up to some mischief again, haven't you?"

"Absolutely not! Well…" I checked myself remembering last night. Fujiko-san sighed.

"You never learn do you? No wonder you've faced such misfortunes!"

"Please, it was only a mean little trick I played on Mameha-san last night. We showed her apprentice up a little, that's all. No harm done… Except maybe to their ego. Otherwise, I've been on my best behavior this whole time. Honest!" I insisted, seeing the deep skepticism on her face. "I've been much too busy trying to avoid disaster with my own apprentice to get into trouble. Mameha and I avoid each other like wild dogs – if I see her coming up one street, I cross to the other."

Without a word, Fujiko-san stood up and hobbled out of the room. She returned with a sheet of paper covered in all sort of arcane drawings and figures.

"I took the opportunity to do your readings before you arrived. Look here," she pointed to one column. "That's one of the worst readings I've ever seen! I was so stunned I had to double-check to make sure I wasn't seeing things. There's a storm brewing, Tsukishiro-san. I'm not sure which of the gods you've offended with your behavior this time, but I suggest you live like a _saint_ from now on if you're to have any hope of escaping it!"

"…Any ideas on what this storm will look like?"

"You know casting that far into the future is tricky business. Whatever it is, don't expect it to arrive soon. But you may be sure that when it does arrive, you'll most definitely be sorry it happened."

The train back to Kyoto pulled into the station that afternoon. We rode back in grim silence, my face clearly saying that I was in no mood to speak.

It felt terribly unfair to hear that fate wasn't done with me yet. Despite my moral relapse the previous evening, I really had been on my best behavior. It was quite true that this business with Prince Tsuruhito consumed my attention of late, with the result that I had no real rivals outside of Mameha. Of course, there were some geisha who were too jealous of our success to bring themselves to befriend us, but they were merely flies buzzing uselessly around town. Their feelings were none of my concern.

Was this to do with what I did to Nitta-san, or some other past transgression? I hardly felt guilty or indebted to any of them. I'd simply taken what was rightfully mine from Nitta-san, who'd gotten used to benefiting from it scot-free. At any rate, the survival of our _okiya_ had depended on that acquisition. I won't apologize for that. Sayuri had gotten all the karmic vengeance she could ever need by getting me thrown out of Gion in disgrace. And Pumpkin, well…

Even if I felt like apologizing, I hadn't the faintest clue where she was.

I ruminated on Fujiko-san's warning and my past misdeeds for hours. The train peacefully rattled out of Tokyo, though Kanagawa, Omi, and many other villages and towns besides. The conductor had just announced that Kyoto would be the next station when the whole train jerked.

A terrible screeching filled the air as people were thrown from their seats. Luggage tumbled out of the overhead racks and fell to the ground. The forward momentum threw me completely onto the floor, where I vainly tried to protect myself from getting crushed. The train then came to a sudden stop and jerked in the opposite direction – the last thing I felt was a sharp pain in the back of my head.

I'm afraid I must have fainted after that. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back in the corridor. Everything was still, but I could hear panicked voices everywhere. There was a gentleman lying next me, either still unconscious or dead. I could hear Katsumiyo somewhere crying while someone tried to comfort her. My hair felt wet. Suddenly I became aware that everything was now tilted upward. I was afraid something was terribly wrong with my brain!

I tried to lift myself to see around me, but at once was pushed back by an attendant, his hat gone and his jacket partially torn.

"Please lie back ma'am! Your daughter is safe. An ambulance will be here shortly."

"What's happened?" I asked. My voice sounded oddly groggy, as if I'd just awoken from a long sleep. "Where on earth…?"

"The train's crashed, ma'am. You shouldn't talk anymore until the doctors arrive."

As we'd learn over the coming weeks, things were a bit worse than a simple crash. Somehow a large piece of scrap metal ended up on the tracks just outside the outer limits of Kyoto. Despite the conductor's best efforts, the train collided with the debris and the first few cars were totally derailed. This included first class, where we had been sitting.

Three people died in the resulting tragedy, including the poor conductor, who was eventually hailed as a hero for having the presence of mind to pull the emergency brake as soon as he could. According to certain experts, had the train hit it at full speed, the fatalities would've likely been much worse.

I myself merely suffered a cut on the back of my scalp and a concussion from hitting a leg of one of the benches. Katsumiyo had bruised several ribs and badly sprained her wrist when the initial shock slammed her into the seat in front of us, but they'd have just as easily been broken had it not been for all the padding and layers of her fall-weight apprentice kimono.

Honestly, the worst loss we personally suffered was being informed that we would both be barred from working for the next two weeks. Due to my concussion, I was effectively on leave until a doctor said otherwise.

Fujiko-san's warning rang in my ears like a bell for the next several days. The next afternoon, I finally got up to check my almanac for that day, already knowing what I would find – all forecasts for travel in the direction of the Horse (where we were going when the accident happened) had been fine. There was nothing else in either of our predictions to indicate such a cataclysmic event. Nothing, except what had transpired that night at the party.

I do so hate to be humbled in this way, but I couldn't deny it any longer. Both Fujiko-san and Mameha were right; faced with temptation, I'd gleefully slipped back into my old ways of needless cruelty. I'd ruined their night for no other reason than to spite them for existing.

For the span of a moment, I'd become Hatsumomo again.

And as penance for a taste of my old venom, I'd reaped my old reward. But what made it so truly terrifying was the fact that, since I'd used Katsumiyo to commit an evil deed, she suffered my fate right along with me. Although a much lighter version, as her wounds healed even sooner than expected and she was back in the teahouses in less than a fortnight. Nonetheless, it never would've happened to either of us had I learned my lesson and refrained from raining on Mameha's parade.

Between the loss of income and paying the medical fees for us both, this also would've been a terrible blow to our finances if it hadn't been for Kazuhiro-san generously covering everything the moment he was informed of our misfortune. Others were also very kind to us during this time, sending gifts of sweets, magazines, and other things while we were penned up in the _okiya_, or finding little ways to help Kohaku now that she was temporarily our sole earner. Her own _danna_, Waseda-san, swung through town for a visit and kindly volunteered to be billed at twice his usual rate.

But it was one gift in particular that stood out.

A few weeks later, not long after Katsumiyo had her splint removed, we received a package from an unfamiliar address. Inside was a glossy black box with a letter. It was from Prince Tsuruhito – the address was his father's mansion, a royal compound just outside of Tokyo.

The box held two ornaments: a large ebony lacquer hairpin with several delicate cherry blossoms wrought in pure gold, each head holding a cluster of three gleaming, bluish-white pearls; and a pair of round, sapphire earrings. Both were made by a famous jeweler often patronized by celebrities. It was no mystery who the grander of the two gifts was meant for.

Unfortunately I'd been enjoying a quiet lunch when the package arrived and couldn't intercept it myself. I only found out about it after hearing the others exclaiming over the dazzling gifts with our head maid.

"Are you seeing this, Tsukishiro-san? The earrings are nice, but the hairpin has to be almost priceless!" Kohaku exclaimed. Her previous _danna_, Takui Matsuda, was a sort of jewelry conessoeur; she'd learned a great deal and seen innumerable lovely gems from being his mistress for so many years.

"Their Highnesses must have heard about the accident from Kazuhiro-sama," Sakura said, her eyes never once leaving the hairpin. "But isn't Prince Tsuruhito the young man? Why on earth would he be sending such lavish gifts to his uncle's mistress?"

Standing there, seeing a those jaw-dropping gifts on the table with a signed letter from the man himself…I knew the jig was up. There was simply no other way to explain why a small fortune had just been mailed to our _okiya_. But first I made sure to send the head maid on some meaningless errand. She was a very capable old lady, but it's a simple fact of life – maids gossip.

I told them everything: the prince's affection for Katsumiyo; his requited feelings; and our plan to keep his attention until they were old enough to officially become _danna_ and mistress. By the time I finished, Sakura and Kohaku sat there, staring at me like I'd just removed my head from my own neck!

"Well…" Sakura eventually cleared her throat, suddenly wanting to look at everything but the box before her. "Now I see why you've been so secretive these past few seasons, Tsukishiro-san! This is…quite some news!"

"'Some news'? This is as big as it gets! This is _the Imperial family_!" Kohaku exclaimed, causing us both to harshly shush her. "Tsukishiro-san," she continued after we double-checked for eavesdroppers, "are you sure you want to do this? You couldn't have picked a more high profile person if you tried to seduce the prime minister! This is going to get serious."

"I am quite sure. At any rate, it's too late to turn back as you can see," I gestured to the still open box before us. "This path was decided for us the moment we dressed Katsumiyo in that robe and sent her to Pontocho. It's been nearly a year since their meeting and the young man is still head-over-heels. We couldn't possibly snub his attentions now!"

I'm sure they still held their doubts, but my word on the subject was final. Business continued as usual in an almost deathly silence as we each tried to process and accept what had just transpired between us. It continued unbroken until Katsumiyo returned home from school and found the ornament and Tsuruhito's letter in her room.

"I can see that you're thrilled," I told her after the screaming died down, "but _do_ try to keep your head. You'll have many lovely gifts besides this one, after all."

"Yes, ma'am!" she bowed, clutching the letter to her chest and not hearing me one little bit. If it were possible, I'm sure the girl would've burst into pure light from happiness! She didn't need to be reminded to write him a letter of profuse gratitude.

I walked out of her room and spied Kohaku peering at the scene I'd just left from behind the door. Her face betrayed no emotion; her eyes were unreadable.

"Such a mysterious expression, Kohaku-san! As I recall, you were the one championing a girl's right to romance."

"That was when I thought she had a crush on a _takoyaki_ seller," she sighed. "…During the war, before the teahouses shut down, a German soldier I was friendly with told me an old Western fable. It was about a boy who tried to touch the sun and crashed into the ocean instead."

We both stood there for a moment. The only sound was Katsumiyo's calligraphy brush and her cheerful humming, obliviously happy like any other young girl in love.

"…Then it's a good thing we're merely picking flowers."


	14. Chapter 14

_Somewhere in this chapter I've hidden a terrible joke. +10 points to whoever can find it!_

_**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fiction. The characters and events depicted have no basis in reality, and resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental._

* * *

Many months passed quietly. The train accident was a hot topic in the teahouses, making Katsumiyo and I very popular for a time. Honestly, I felt like we were asked to recount the story more times than there are leaves on a tree! But even that was eventually forgotten for some other scandal or story, as these things do.

The only real change was that the prince's lavish gift and her girlishly smitten thank-you letter started a regular correspondence between them. I can't say for sure if that was Tsuruhito's intention, but it was certainly convenient to get news of the royal goings-on without having to go through Kazuhiro-san. Not that there was much to tell at first – at the wish of his father, Tsuruhito was educated at a private boarding academy outside of the country after Japan lost the war. The only reason we saw him as much as we did was because they were occasionally allowed breaks to go home.

So for that autumn, they simply sent notes to each other talking about trivial things, as young lovers do. We eventually grew so accustomed to receiving mail stamped with the imperial crest that it actually came as a surprise when one of them held big news.

The seasons had faded from a warm autumn to a harsh and snowy winter. Kohaku and I sat around a lit brazier in my room, pouring over which engagements to prioritize during the busy New Year season that was approaching.

"If I had to be totally honest, Tsukishiro-san," she sighed into her tea, "I'd rather spend New Year's Eve at home than spend it with Minister Tentacles!"

She was referring to an education minister by the name of Takobuchi, who was notorious for his habit of trying to worm his way into giving long, grabby hugs, earning him the nickname 'Tentacles'.

"I doubt anyone looks forward to spending the evening with a pig, Kohaku-san. But he is a high-roller and known for giving out generous tips. We're better off than I ever dared to hope, but let's not get arrogant."

"I think you mean an octopus! The last time I went to one of his parties I had to fake sick and leave early to get away from his grubby paws. I'm shocked he's made it to the end of the year without doing something to get himself banned."

I was just about to (reluctantly) agree when I heard quick footsteps in the hallway. A few moments later Katsumiyo knocked and let herself in.

"Tsukishiro-san!" she bowed quickly, trying to pretend she hadn't just run there. "Er, may I have a moment?"

"You've clearly already forgotten your manners, so you may as well not even fake it now! What is the matter?"

"I'm sorry ma'am. I-It's just… A letter from Tsuruhito-san arrived, and he wants to invite us to spend New Year's Eve at his father's house." She bowed low to the mats, sliding the letter forward.

I grabbed it eagerly. It was to be an even bigger family gathering than Kazuhiro's party that spring, only available to members of the imperial family and approved guests. If he was bothering to extend a formal invite to us, then we were clearly already on the list. Our acceptance was not even a question.

But I was amused to see a second note behind it from Motohito-san, his father, confirming the invitation while specifically requesting Kohaku.

"My! It looks like you won't be needing Waseda-san's services much longer at this rate."

"That's a game for the two of you. I have no interest in getting entangled with big shots _that_ big! But you may still tell him that I'll be absolutely thrilled to go."

"Minister Takobuchi will be disappointed to see us cancel," I feigned a regretful sigh.

"And that's exactly why."

* * *

The car trip to Nara had been long and tiring. Early that morning, even before the sun had finished rising, a shining black motorcar with white tires pulled in front of the _okiya_. We didn't bring much, as we'd only be spending the night and departing early New Year's Day.

I dressed in a thick robe of slate gray, blue mountains rising majestically to my pine colored obi. Kohaku was characteristically bombastic for the occasion, donning a deep navy robe depicting fierce-eyed falcons in russet lacquer descending on some prey. I think she called herself attempting to intimidate Motohito into rethinking his infatuation – I wasn't so sure.

We debated on whether to bring out the Hakone kimono for an encore, but that idea was quickly put to rest once it was pointed out that it was undoubtedly a summer robe. Instead, Katsumiyo wore her favorite winter kimono, a eggplant colored robe with intricate silver threads around the sleeves and hem under a black obi.

She absolutely insisted on wearing Tsuruhito's gift in her hair despite it being slightly out of season, an effect we tempered by surrounding it with ornaments of pine needles and dangling gray pearls.

It was a more understated look than I liked, but I decided that we hardly had anyone to impress anymore. The game now was to keep Tsuruhito interested, a feat Katsumiyo could accomplish only with her wit and charm. Besides, as newcomers to this elite event it wouldn't do to look like we were trying to be center of attention! But if that happened anyway…well, I'd be the last to complain.

Eventually we arrived in Nara and continued out past a sparsely developed suburb. We glided along the road until a large, freshly painted wall appeared. It was a gate enclosing a compound that could've comfortably housed every _okiya_ on Higashi-oji Avenue with room to spare for a garden! A guard in a gleaming black uniform walked to the driver door smartly and peered at us before gesturing for the front entry to be opened.

As I later learned, the massive black-and-white mansion that appeared before us was actually Motohito-san's second home. Officially all members of the main family lived at the Imperial Palace in Tokyo, and did spend much time there conducting business on behalf of the Emperor. But it was common for members to buy lavish second homes like this one once they got married and had children of their own, if only to raise their families in relative peace. Not that you were ever truly free, of course.

A servant in a suit with coat and tails bowed low to us the moment we disembarked from the vehicle.

"Honored guests of Prince Motohito-sama," he announced loudly, "His Highness will receive you at once!" Without a further word – or even so much as a glance at us – he turned on a shining heel and marched before us into the house.

Despite being designed in the likeness of a Japanese castle outside, the interior was actually very modern, with tile floors and plush Western furniture scattered throughout. We were led to a side room the size of the entire first floor of our _okiya_; lounging on a green sofa were the young prince and princess.

"You made it!" Tsuruhito bounced up from his seat, paying little heed to the herald at first. "Er, well, I'm just really excited you came…"

"You flatter us, Your Highness!" I assured him. "You can't possibly say that you're more excited to see us than your own relatives."

He blushed and tried stammering a reply before a voice boomed out from a door behind them, "He absolutely is!"

Motohito swaggered into the room dressed casually in a sweater vest and and house slippers, looking as jovial as ever.

"That boy of mine hasn't talked about anything but this party since yesterday! And I doubt it's because he's eager to see his great-aunt Natsuko." He laughed at his own joke, causing poor Tsuruhito to flush even more strongly. It took him a moment to notice his daughter remaining seated. "Chikako, where are your manners! Come greet our guests like your brother."

The princess continued to fix her steely gaze at us for a moment, before slowly rising and making a short, graceful bow. "Forgive me father. I didn't think introductions were necessary," she murmured carelessly. Then, so quick I was almost convinced it was my imagination, her liquid black eye fixed on Katsumiyo. "…We've met."

"Not all of them you haven't! This lovely thing, for example," he turned his attentions onto Kohaku, not even slightly perturbed by his daughter's ice cold hospitality. "I regret we didn't meet sooner than this summer."

"The regret is all mine. If I'd known you all were going to have _fireworks_ at Kazuhiro-sama's party, I wouldn't have bothered going to whatever hideously boring thing I was at!"

"Then you've picked an excellent time to correct that mistake. A New Year's without fireworks or a New Year's without sake… I couldn't decide which is worse!"

"Then allow me to cast my vote for sake!" Kohaku joked.

Our little gathering continued on this way for a short while, laughing and joking while maids obsequiously presented snacks and cups of fine sake, until other attendees began arriving. As the evening wore on, we had the privilege of being introduced to all sorts of people from various branches of the family. The few that stuck with me over the years: Takemaru, a middle-aged cousin of theirs with a funny little walk that turned out to be due to losing one of his knees in Manchuria; and the aforementioned great-aunt Natsuko, a sister of the Dowager Empress who owned one of the largest jewelry collections in Japan at that time. She and Kohaku found that they had much to talk about.

At one point the herald returned and announced the arrival of Dowager Empress Kotoko herself, mother to the current Emperor. Everyone immediately dropped what they were doing and bowed low as the venerable old lady strode in regally on the arm of an attendant, nodding serenely to people as she passed. Rather than joining the party, she retired at once to a quiet side room where a guard immediately posted himself beside the door. Only immediate family and her small retinue of trusted servants were permitted to enter.

"This has to be strangest party I've ever seen!" Kohaku pulled me aside and remarked. "The Dowager Empress just walked in and commandeered an entire room, and not a single person blinked an eye. And just a few moments ago, I talked to a famous actress on the arm of some no-name politician, who happened to be Emperor's uncle!"

I could only shake my head. "This is their world, not ours. They have their own rules for what's strange, it seems."

"Well, strange or not, I'm going to see if I can't butter up Motohito to give me his mother's autograph. I know a certain geisha who doubted me when I said I was invited to spend New Year's with the royal family, and she idolized Empress Kotoko. She'd eat her favorite obi if she saw it!"

"While you're gathering evidence, tell me where you last saw Katsumiyo and the prince. I lost track of them chatting with aunt Natsuko."

"Katsumiyo?" Kohaku looked puzzled. "I thought you were keeping an eye on her. I haven't seen either of them in over an hour. I don't think I even see them in the room!"

Immediately, I scanned the room like a hawk and saw that it was true; Katsumiyo was nowhere to be found. Katsumiyo and Tsuruhito had spent every spare moment that evening deep in conversation, deaf and blind to the world around them, giggling like newlyweds. It was almost a sweet picture at first, and I decided to be lenient and allow them to enjoy themselves as much as they wished. Now I was regretting it terribly – I didn't think they'd decide to disappear and enjoy themselves _too_ much!

"We need to find her," I breathed, gripping Kohaku's arm with barely-contained panic. "Now."

"You couldn't possibly think she's-"

"We don't need to think it; other people do. And when a young girl and a boy disappear together without telling anyone, there's only one thing that comes to mind!"

Quietly, making sure to remain the very picture of grace and serenity, we exited the party and split up towards opposite ends of the great hallway running from the door to the back garden. I peered into other rooms, my progress occasionally hampered by having to stop and chat with someone or other. None of them professed to have seen either my lost apprentice or the young prince.

In desperation, I even attempted to mount the stairs to their private rooms, but was stopped by a guard who told me they were off-limits.

"A _maiko_ in a violet kimono? The only _maiko_ I've seen at all was the one with you, and she hasn't passed by here. Would you like me to conduct a search?" He didn't seem like he was lying.

Empty-handed, I was forced to hurry in the direction Kohaku had gone. In one of the smaller sitting rooms, I saw her talking sternly with none other than Tsuruhito.

"Thank goodness you've found them!" I sighed.

"Only one of them I'm afraid," Kohaku shook her head.

"It's my own fault! I humbly apologize," he bowed, looking genuinely contrite. "We were talking about maybe seeing a film together, when my sister talked Katsumiyo-chan into following her into the garden."

"As long as we know you're both safe and no harm was done, consider it forgotten."

"I'm afraid you aren't familiar with my sister. Chikako can have…a peevish sense of humor. Normally I'd try to stop it, but I'm afraid my trying to interfere might make things worse."

"Then allow me to interfere on your behalf." I excused myself before making an immediate beeline to the garden.

The fact was that I didn't completely trust Chikako either. We tried to make amends about the fashion column, but it was clear that the iron-blooded princess wasn't the type to forget grudges. Hearing the less-than-reassuring description her own brother wove didn't exactly soothe my nerves. The door to the garden had the strangest feature in that the center was cut out to reveal squares of colored glass. Through it I could see two mottled figures making their way back into the mansion. I immediately threw it open to find Chikako and Katsumiyo, trudging their way up the cobblestone path in the thickly falling snow.

"There you both are! You've given us all a fright! Please, come in and warm yourselves before you catch your deaths."

"I'm truly sorry for worrying you, ma'am," Katsumiyo bowed. Chikako said nothing, striding imperiously through the door where a maid appeared almost out of thin air with a hot towel.

"I must apologize for whatever selfish adventure my apprentice may have imposed on you, Your Highness. Thank you for taking care of her."

I was received with a backwards glance as effortlessly frosty as ever. "…Don't worry about it."

The moment Chikako safely retreated back into the warmth of one of the rooms, I grabbed Katsumiyo sharply by her ear and led her back into the snow.

"What were you thinking?!" I hissed. "The only reason I don't slap you is because it'd ruin your makeup! Don't you ever disappear like that without my express permission again!"

"I-I'm very sorry, ma'am! I tried to ask you but the princess told me not to a-and I didn't think-"

"That's no excuse! That girl has obviously not forgiven you for our slight before. She's the last person you should allow to lead you around by the nose!"

"I know… Something has happened."

"I'm not surprised," I humphed, giving her ear one last sharp tug. "But right now we still have an important engagement to finish. Whatever mischief has occurred, put it out of your mind until we return to the _okiya_. Go back inside and make sure you ask one of the maids to fetch you a cup of hot sake before you catch cold. And I want you within sight of us for the rest of the year!"


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry for the unannounced hiatus last week. The good news is that I was able to use the time to catch up quite a bit. Barring technical issues, we should be able to go the rest of the year without any more skipped uploads._

_If this chapter feels short, it's because the next one is LONG._

_**Disclaimer** \- This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real life events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidence._

* * *

Despite an inauspicious end, I'm grateful to say that the remainder of the New Year's festivities resumed their smooth easy pace. We returned to one of the smaller side rooms where Kohaku and Tsuruhito were waiting, still somewhat anxiously.

"There you are, naughty girl! Outside on this bitter night – were you planning on starting the new year as an icicle?"

"Forgive me for causing you both worry," Katsumiyo bowed, looking genuinely contrite. "I was led away by Her Highness and neglected to inform anyone I was going."

"I just hope she didn't cause any trouble out there. My sister can do some crazy things when she takes interest in someone."

"Princess Chikako? I'd never believe it," Kohaku raised an eyebrow. "Her Highness looks the picture of refinement. Little wonder the fashion columns in Tokyo adore her!"

"If I may be so bold, where is the princess now?" I inquired. "As her older sister, it's my duty to apologize on behalf of my apprentice."

The young prince gallantly rushed to Katsumiyo's aid. "Oh, that's absolutely not necessary! I'm completely certain it was all her idea anyway – my older sister always has had a strong constitution against the cold. She's naturally selfish, so she often forgets that guests don't feel the same way. In fact, Chikako-san has probably already gone to bed."

"Such early hours! She won't even stay up late on New Year's?"

"Especially not tonight. We're expected to spend our first shrine visit of the year with my aunt and uncle in Tokyo every year," he explained, referring to the Emperor and Empress. "We have to get up even before dawn to make it in time for the ceremony. Chikako is always careful to get enough sleep or else she's horribly irritable."

"Then you'll be getting off to bed soon yourself! It's bad luck to make someone late for their _hatsumode_." Kohaku teased, referring to the tradition of making one's very first offering of the year.

"Someone has to stay up to make sure my father gets off to bed himself. He will regret drinking so much. But yes – I'm afraid I'll have to bid everyone goodnight once the fireworks are finished."

"Then you must make sure to pay us lots of attention until then!"

We rejoined the rest of the party in the main room to find that the Dowager Empress had been requesting her grand-nephews presence. A whisper was all it took to send him darting into the little side room where she continued to sit in state, only accepting audiences from her closest family.

I ended up falling into conversation with the young actress for the rest of the evening (she hoped to play a famous courtesan in some upcoming film or another and pelted me with incessant questions about this and that), but was relieved to find him back into conversation with Katsumiyo a few minutes later.

The next few hours passed just as the first had. I'd even managed to forget my previous anxiety about the princess when another liveried attendant returned.

"Your Excellencies and Honored Guests: the time is now 11:50. His Highness Motohito-sama has prepared a display of fireworks to welcome the New Year. If it would so please whomever wishes to witness it, I kindly beg you to follow me to the back garden."

Everyone eagerly tromped out of the dining room in an orderly line and retraced our steps from before to the rainbow-patterned door, where a guard waited in salute as he held it open. In my hurry to find my apprentice earlier, I hadn't noticed that a large pagoda stood in the corner of the wide garden, with an open hexagonal roof. Everyone relocated here, where a maid in an impeccably pressed indigo robe was already waiting to serve hot tea and sake.

I've never been a fan of the cold, even less so once I passed thirty, but even I had to admit that it was strangely pleasurable to stand and admire the almost-perfect snow drifts and clear night sky.

In the time it took for everyone to be served something to warm their fingers, we heard the first ring of a temple bell off in the distance – the new year had begun. Not just the new year but a new decade, as it was now the dawn of the 1950s.

We all stood in reverential silence as it rang the customary 108 times. The very moment the last tone died away in the winter air, the first sizzle of fire sprang up. At the farthest edge of the garden, a row of officers stood holding torches and lit a single fuse one after the other. We all drank and laughed as explosions in all sorts of colors lit up the sky above us. Eventually we all fell into offering various toasts, none of them particularly clever or serious. But one always stood out to me.

"To a new era," Takemaru cried merrily, drink high in the air. "War couldn't kill us….but modernism just might!"

* * *

Kohaku and the others remained downstairs, determined to continue the revelry until the first sunrise. I had no intention of drinking the night away at my age and politely excused myself a little past one in the morning, taking my apprentice with me.

"Now then," I began, taking a seat in our palatial guest room. "You mentioned that something happened between you and the princess. We'll be lucky if we see them for more than a few minutes in the morning, so you'd better tell me about it now."

Katsumiyo sighed. "Something happened, ma'am, but I'm not sure if talking to them will do us any good now."

"What do you mean by that?" I'd been prepared for a little spat between girls; now that little seed of worry from earlier was looking more like a fully grown weed.

"You see… Chikako-san convinced me to leave the party, like I said. Well, more like she said she wanted to go and I didn't know how to refuse… Tsuruhito-sama tried to follow us, I think he was worried about me, but the princess declared that she wanted me to go alone and wouldn't tolerate anything else!"

"And she said something to you out in the garden."

Aristocratic ladies like Chikako were far too refined to resort to physical means to settle any disputes between them, but that usually just meant that they can use their words all the crueler.

"Yes, ma'am. We actually talked for a long while. She said a lot of things, mostly about our intentions towards her brother."

"As you should expect," I interrupted. "I'm sure word travels fast in the royal family. Not everyone will be pleased that a common young girl such as yourself is enjoying the prince's attentions, even if his parents clearly don't mind. Heaven knows that many of them have probably had designs on him marrying their own daughters since the day he was born!"

"I'm sure it's just as you say, Tsukishiro-san. But mostly she talked about how…_stressful_ it is being them. How people frequently befriend her and Tsuruhito-sama just to disappear one day, how much they both have to work to perform their duties… I got the sense that the princess must be quite a lonely person without her brother."

"That would be the case, yes. One could only imagine how many times some unsavory character has tried to worm their way into their lives simply because of their closeness to the throne," I nodded. "I'm sure you've noticed how guarded and unusual everyone here is. The fact that they are children affords them little exception. But what exactly does that have to do with you? Unless she made accusations…"

"No, ma'am! That isn't what happened at all."

"Then what is it? Speak up already, it's running far too late for a story with no ending!"

"S-she… Chikako-san challenged me to a game," she sighed. "Whoever could name all the types of trees in the garden could demand one thing from the loser."

"Stop. You don't need to tell me that you lost." Botany is not exactly on the list of subjects a young geisha learns. Never mind the fact that this was Chikako's own home! But without anyone to rescue her from the conversation, Katsumiyo had no realistic way to refuse. "It was a sure setup to fail, likely concocted entirely to bully you a bit for daring to go sniffing around her brother. What did she demand?"

Katsumiyo mumbled the answer, eyes pointed miserably at the mats.

"…The robe of Hakone."


End file.
